No one but her
by ilustgerik
Summary: Erik, is a lonely, tortured soul, also a college professor. Christine is a lonely confused college student. Yes, Erik becomes her legitimate teacher. First fic. Oh yeah, modern day. Not Raoul friendly. Raoul OOC. FINISHED!
1. The Luvrs meet

A/N: First fic, don't be too harsh please.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. I will be changing some names. Raoul...is not a popular name. As of now, all other names are acceptable.

Erik

He longed to teach. That's why he was here

Suddenly Erik Grenier longed for a hammer and some nails again. Those inanimate objects didn't stare at him, or ask him questions. He tried to drown the butterflies in his stomach with the lukewarm coffee. A grimace played over his visable features at the taste of the tepid coffee.

It was his first day as a professor. He was nervous. He never got nervous. Well, hardly ever. His nerves weren't concerned with his ability, but were concerned with his being in front of a group of curious students. He longed to teach, that's why he worked hard for years. To be educated. Now he had his degrees, and he could finally share his talent with the world. Well, a group of a little over a hundred if he added all the students together.

He knew he was good. He had no doubt of that. He'd brought audiences to tears by merely running his fingers over a keyboard. They nearly forgot the mask once they heard him play.

He stared at his reflection in the glass window.

The gleaming white leather of the mask stared back at him, as it always did. It dipped just below his upper lip on the right side of his face, split his nose in half then continued up to his hairline covering a bit more than the top quarter of his face. He preferred the mask to the plain ugliness of his face. As did the rest of the world. He'd learned that the hard way. Doctors could do nothing else for him, and they'd done little as it was.

His turquoise eyes rose to glance at the clock. 8:43. They would be arriving soon. Sweat beaded on the visible side of his forehead. His hand snatched the cord for the roll-down blind. The room was dark with no sunlight shining in. Only half of the fluorescent lights shone.

He leaned on his elbow, which rested on the lid of the upright piano in the corner of the room then downed the rest of the nasty coffee. The list of the students gleamed against the dark top of the desk. The list was for the first class of the day. Ten. It was only ten people. He'd performed in front of larger groups. Much larger. But then he hadn't been interacting with them on a nearly daily basis. The crowds merely looked at him in suspicion, maybe confusion. They couldn't ask questions. But the students could. The students would have plenty of opportunity to speak with him, ask questions he dreaded.

Suddenly Erik couldn't breathe. He loosened the top button of his white dress shirt, that didn't help. Loosened the knot in the tie he wore. Didn't help. Played a jaunty tune on the upper region of the piano. Then took a deep breath. 8:50. Okay. Ten minutes. He pushed his tie back into place. Music Theroy. He could teach this class from memory. Deep breathe.

He eased his hip against the edge of the desk just as 2 girls walked through the door. They smiled at him, not quite sure what to make of the masked man at the desk. Fear ran through him, but he forced a smile.

"Good morning ladies." His deep voice resonated the words.

The both returned the greeting. They chatted to each other as the other students continued to file in room. 3 males, 6 females. Someone was missing. After a glance at his paperwork he discovered a female was missing. 9:01. He loathed lateness.

Christine

"Damn it." Christine sighed as the car shuddered and stalled. Bright white teeth nipped her bottom lip. How could she be so foolish? She'd run out of gas halfway to the campus. "Why oh why did I have to stop for a cappachino?" She grabbed her bag, and locked her car door. She was stuck in the parking lot. With a quick glance at her watch she noticed she only had 10 minutes to make it to her first class.

With a great sigh she dumped the trouble-making coffee and heaved her bag over her shoulder. Glancing warily at the hot sun, she started to jog toward the campus.

"Way to start off the new school year." It was already time for her class when the campus came into view. It was late August, so it was still warm. Actually it was beyond warm. Hot, it was hot. Her face was flushed and sweat trickled from her temples down her cheeks. She guzzled a bottle of water she purchased from the nearby machine and rechecked her schedule. Music Theory. Prof. E. Grenier. She didn't recognize the name from her previous year. She started toward the building and up the 2 flights of stairs. She took a deep breath and held her head high, and pulled the door open. The man leaning against the desk was tall. And dark. And very handsome. He was holding a packet of papers, she assumed was the syllabus, and talking to the class. Christine's lips parted when his blue-green gaze pinned on her. Where the left side of his face was tanned, the right side contrasted with a partial mask.

"Miss Daae, how nice of you to join us." His deep voice was like soft velvet against her eardrums. She'd never heard such a beautiful speaking voice. He gave her a slight frown and walked toward her holding out a packet of papers for her.

"Thanks. Sorry." She pushed the chocolate curls out of her flushed face. He swallowed visibly, and then managed a small smile.

"It's fine. Just do try to be on time from now on." She smiled back and nodded. Quickly she sat and got herself situated. The room was cool, much to her relief. According to the clock she was only a few minutes late, but she looked a mess. She probably did look as if she just ran the 2 miles from her car.

"As I was saying, I would advise you attend every class. I won't accept multiple absences. In case of emergency my office number here at the school is listed on the last page, as well as my email address. With that there should be no unexcused absences. I've just recently left school myself, so this is all new to me as well. You will have to bear with me. My name is Erik Grenier and I'd prefer it if you all call me Erik. Have we all got our books yet?" A mumble of yes's came from the group. "Excellent. Let's begin today then." He was a thorough teacher, explaining scales and arpeggios on the dry-erase board behind him. His writing was slightly sloppy, but legible, thankfully.

His voice made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Christine's pen was poised over her lined notebook, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from that mask. His gaze shifted to her quite often. When her eyes met his a few times he stumbled over the words coming out of his mouth and had repeat himself. He turned to write a name on the board then sat at the piano to play a corresponding tune. The rest of the class seemed to pass quickly.

"Alright. That's it for today. I'll expect you all to have your books by Wednesday." He turned a pointed look to a guy a few rows behind Christine. "Ah, and I suggest you all go over all of the scales, major and minor. We'll go over those next time. See you all Wednesday." He walked over to open the door. Christine looked down at her notes, or lack thereof. She'd managed to write a few lines and numerous dots of ink. She slid her notebook closed and picked it and the book up as she made her way up to the man in the front to apologize properly. She didn't want him thinking ill of her on the very first day.

Erik

The flushed girl who pulled the door open was not what he was expecting as the missing student. She looked as if she had taken a few laps around the track before class. Strands of her dark, curled hair stuck to her face. Her face was perfect, framed by the loose curls. He turned toward her; her blue eyes were widened by surprise. The mask he was sure. His breathe caught and he lost track of what he was saying. He lowered his eyes to read her name again. Christine Daae.

"Miss Daae, how nice of you to join us." The frown he gave was to show her he didn't care for tardiness. He handed her a syllabus.

"Thanks. Sorry." Her voice was of an angel. He swallowed deeply. She pushed a few errant locks from her face. He felt the corners of his lips curl into the resemblance of a smile.

"It's fine. Just do try to be on time from now on." She nodded at him. He started the class again. Try as he might he couldn't keep his eyes from sliding back over to her. When she looked up at him, his mind went blank. He shook his head trying to regain his thoughts. When the class was finished she walked up to him. He raised his visible eyebrow. "Miss Daae?"

"Christine. I just wanted to apologize for…uh…for being late."

"It's quite alright. I'd rather you miss a bit of today than something more important."

"I'm usually never late. I had car troubles." The need to make him realize she wasn't normally tardy confused her. But it was strangely important. Her cheeks flushed and she prayed he wouldn't ask about the car trouble. Of course, being of a curious nature, he did.

"Oh, what sort?" He smiled and she saw a flash of white teeth.

"Um actually I ran out of gas half way here." She flushed redder. He stifled a chuckle.

"Oh. Did you have to walk?" His lip curved.

"Yes, actually. Obviously the reason I was late. I apologize." He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The faint scent of his cologne drifted to her.

"No worries. Just remember to fill up next time." He gave her a wink and walked her to the door. A thankful smile appeared on her face.

"Thanks Mister Gren-"

"Erik, please."

"Sorry, thanks…Erik." Christine felt like a bumbling idiot. He sort of smiled after her as she walked down the hall. She glanced back over her shoulder at him.


	2. Save me fromheat stroke?

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Also I think I previously forgot to mention that this Erik is strictly based off of Gerry Butlers Phantom, atleast lookwise. I've taked a bit from Kay too. I love Kay's Phantom.

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing. I've merely changed a character into a dog. No biggie.

Enjoy!

Erik

Erik's day went far better than he expected. The students didn't seem too put off by the mask, and there were no unwelcome questions. All of the students were attentive and seemed to be interested. He felt his lips quirk up again as he walked to the faculty parking lot. He loosened his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt. It was very warm out still, but it was still fairly early in the day. The leather seats inside his black SUV were warm and the air inside was practically stifling. He blasted the air as soon as he started the car. His bag was tossed in the backseat. Various papers were scattered over the backseat. Compositions mostly.

The radio was set to a classical station. When he could tolerate touching the steering wheel, he headed toward his apartment. He squinted against the sun and made a left. Just ahead a familiar sight welcomed him. Christine Daae was heading up the street at a fairly brisk pace. He slowed and pulled up next to her. His finger flicked the switch for the passenger side window.

Christine stared at the strange black tinted-windowed vehicle that pulled up next to her, with slight unease. Much to her relief a familiar face, and mask, moved to the opening window.

"Need a ride?" Erik's lips curled into a quasi-smile.

"Hi."

"Hi." He pushed the door open. "Get in."

"Thank you. This is very nice of you." She welcomed the blast of cool air that hit her as she laid her bag on her lap and pulled the seatbelt over her. Those turquoise eyes seemed to laugh at her.

"You shouldn't have to walk all the way back again in this heat."

"My car is up by the Starbucks. Just up the road a little further. I hope this isn't out of your way."

"No, not at all." He lied. He heard her humming along with the soft music. Had he not been driving he would have closed his eyes and gotten lost in the beautiful sound of it. "Lovely." He murmured.

"Hmm? What's lovely?"

"Your voice is." She flushed, unaware that he had heard her.

"Oh, no. Not really. I haven't properly sung in years." Since the death of her mother. Erik pulled in next to her car.

"It is. Is this yours?"

"Yes, that's it." She was reluctant to leave the cool car. "Oh, stupid, I still have no gas."

"Gas can?" Her brow was furrowed.

"No, but I'm seriously starting to think it would be a wise purchase."

"This happen often?" He chuckled. She joined him.

"Often enough to make it worthwhile."

"Well then, off to the gas station." From this angle all she could see was the mask and the lower half of his face that was shadowed with the day's growth of stubble. She longed to slide her hand over the roughness of his stubble. She nearly did before she caught herself. She had to remind herself that this was her teacher. Yes, she could secretly lust after him, but nothing would ever come of it.

"Thank you so much."

"Oh think nothing of it." Before she knew it, they were back at her car again. When they arrived back at her car he watched he struggle to get the gas from the can into her tank.

"Here, I'll do it. I thought you were a pro at this." He smiled as the gas poured slowly into the car.

"Yes, but I've never had to actually do it. Usually I had a friend with me that would." When the can was empty, Erik shook it, and then recapped it.

"Well you should be good to go then, Christine." He handed her the can then her bag.

"I can't thank you enough." She swung the bag over her shoulder.

"Just make sure you're there on Wednesday, on time." He waved. She watched him drive away.

Christine

It was far warmer than it had been early that morning. Christine was quite sure she would welcome fall and winter with open arms. Unable to secure a ride with anyone, not even her closest friend Meg, Christine started heading toward her abandoned car directly after her final class of the day. She had only walked a quarter mile when the huge SUV rode up slowly behind her. When it came to a stop, she was ready to bolt. This certainly wasn't the best part of town.

When Erik's mask peeked out from the vehicle, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. The cold of the A/C was completely blissful. A familiar tune came on the radio and she started to hum along unconsciously.

"Lovely." She heard him whisper in his deep voice.

Her eyes quickly turned to him. "Hmmm? What's lovely?"

"Your voice." She felt her color rise.

"Oh no. Not really. I haven't properly sung in years." Her refusal came out quickly. Christine recalled the last time she'd sung out loud. The day her mother died. They'd been singing the whole way to her dance class. She smiled sadly at the memory.

Erik's SUV pulled in next to her small car. "It is." He argued one last time. "Is this yours?"

Christine nodded. "Yes, that's it." They dealt with her lack of gas and he went on his way. She waved after him. The day had proved exciting, and the approaching semester seemed to definitely have promise.

Erik

Erik sped the rest of the way home. From the moment he first saw her, music started coursing through his blood. He dared not mess around, lest he forget even a single note or chord. In his state of hurriedness, he couldn't recall if he'd even shut his car door. Lucy, the huge chocolate Lab, waited patiently for Erik. Lucy, short for Luciana, padded closely behind him as he practically ran to his piano. Grabbing a fresh sheet of the staff paper he quickly started to sort out the song in his head.

His fingers flew quickly over the keys, then he would quickly record what he'd just played. He wrote well into the evening pausing only once for the dogs bathroom needs and once for his own. When the notes had finally run dry, his eyes were gritty and his stomach was rumbling. Lucy lay asleep at his feet, snoring softly.

After he'd fed himself, he headed to bed. He had two three-hour long classes tomorrow, and he hoped they would go as smoothly as today's. He gently tore the mask from his face and placed on the nightstand next to his bed. The weight of Lucy settled at the foot of the bed, and he flicked the bedside lamp off. Before long his dreams were haunted by the face of sweaty-face girl he'd met not even 24 hours ago.


	3. Our new patron

A/N: Sorry for the delay. This chapter includes 2 exciting parts of the story. Introduction of the much hated Raoul character, and we find out where his lair will be. Hope you enjoy. Thanks again for all the reviews!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Christine

Later that same week, Christine stood on the stage, practicing with her small theater group. Her good friend, Meg, had talked her into dancing with her. They had both taken dance classes together when they were younger.

"No, no, no, **NO!**" Richard stood angrily in the third row of the audience. Richard stomped up the stairs to the stage. "Daniel if you drop her once more, I'll kill you before she has the chance to. If you can't grasp the concept of grabbing her hips before she hits the ground there are others backstage that can. Now start the number again, please."

Meg giggled softly next to Christine. Christine had to shush her before she started laughing with her. Red-faced Daniel earned quite a glare from girl he'd been dancing with. Richard returned to his seat next to his brother Andre. They were the managers/directors of the small theater troupe. They spoke quietly for a moment.

"Go on then, from the beginning of the number please." Andre instructed less harshly. Two different brothers Christine had never seen. Richard was loud and demanding, while Andre was more soft-spoken and praising. Christine enjoyed working for them.

At the end of the practice Christine noticed a third body sitting in the third row next to Richard.

"Just a moment everyone, we have an announcement to make." Richard nodded to one of the stage workers and all of the house lights came on. The three men scooted out into the aisle then up to the stage. Christine could help but feel she knew the new guy. He was taller than both of the managers, blonde hair that looked meticulously styled and bright blue eyes.

"Our new producer and patron, Mr. Ryan Changy." Christine's eyes went wide for a moment. It was her former neighbor and playmate. Before the death of her mother, and before she and her father had moved to New York. She recalled that his father was some sort of software guru now. Ryan gave the group a few words, and then was off, brushing right by Christine. She offered him a smile, but his attention was focused elsewhere.

Christine shrugged and remembered that it had been about 13 years since they'd last seen each other, and he would hardly recognize her. Meg joined her a moment later.

"Wow, is that guy hot or what?" Christine merely smiled. Ryan? Hot? She could hardly see him as anything but the boy who used to push her on the swings. To appease Meg, Christine merely nodded.

The house looked so empty and lifeless even from the outside. No lights shone, not even a small porch light. Christine sighed and pulled into the empty driveway. Her father had died the previous year, harshly so from the cancer that ravaged his body. Now Christine was alone with not even a cat to keep her company. Her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning and she pulled out a low calorie frozen entrée. The light on the answering machine did not blink. She had no messages. The mail had bills and little else in it. Her head leaned against her palm as she sat at her kitchen table and watched her meal cook.

Erik

In between classes one day, Erik saw an open door. He went to investigate and found a large room, which obviously served as janitor storage. Carts with garbage bags, brooms, and cleaning supplies filled the room. Another door was in the back corner of the room. The door stuck slightly when Erik pushed on it, but gave eventually. He flicked the light on inside the room. Beyond the door was darkness. The weak light from the room barely penetrated it. Erik looked about the room for a few moments before he found what he was looking for. He flicked the flashlight on, and moved into the darkness.

At the end of a short hallway, he found a set of stairs. Shrugging he started down them. Another door was found at the bottom of the stairs, and gave much easier than the first one. A second hallway was on the other side of the door. A long hallway. Erik headed left first. It appeared the school had used this section of the building before. The doors that lined the hallway had specific classes named on them.

Erik pushed the door, which he assumed had once said VOICE on it. He swept the light beam across the room. A few chairs were scattered about the room. A cobweb covered organ sat against one wall. Erik's eye widened in surprise. He pushed the cobwebs away and set the flashlight down. His fingers ran over the keys and gasped when the sound rang beautifully through the dark room. The acoustics in the room must have been amazing. He pushed more of the cobwebs away and began to play one of his compositions on the instrument. He nearly wept with joy. A piano was nothing compared to this instrument.

He pulled a flimsy chair over and sat at the organ to play more comfortably. His fingers flew over the dusty and ill-kept keys. When his watch beeped on the hour he nearly didn't hear it. He let out an aggravated sigh and grabbed the flashlight. The door to the janitor room was closed now. He peeked his head out and saw no one so he stepped out.

When Erik looked down he noticed his hands were filthy, and he had streaks of dirt elsewhere on his dress shirt. He stepped into the restroom and noticed he had cobwebs clinging to his hair and back. He quickly cleaned himself up and made it back to his classroom only a few minutes late.

Christine

"Where have you been?" Christine's head shot up from the book she was glancing at. Meg was glaring at her. "Well? Where were you? We were supposed to meet for lunch a half hour ago." Christine looked down at her watch. It was a little after one o'clock.

"I'm sorry Meg. I guess I just got lost in this book." She shoved it back into her bag. "Shall we go now?" Christine pacified Meg by offering to pay for lunch. They headed toward Christine's car. A familiar large figure headed toward them. Christine felt her lips curve into a smile. His white mask gleamed in the still bright sunlight. She saw his lips quirk too. There was a long line of dirt lining the sleeve of Erik's upper arm and smudge on his visible cheek as well.

"Good afternoon Ms. Daae, Ms. Giry." He nodded toward them.

"Hello Erik." Christine beamed at him, wondering what he could have been up to. "See you tomorrow."

"Yes, until then." He gave a curt wave and moved past them. Christine looked over her shoulder just in time to see Erik doing the same thing. He froze momentarily, then whipped his head back around.

"Wow, who was that, how do you know him, why does he know my name, and why is he wearing a mask?" Meg demanded.

"That's Erik Grenier. He teaches my music theory class. I assume he knows your mother since she does work here, perhaps she mentioned you were her daughter. And I have no idea why he wears a mask." Though she'd like to find out.

"Odd." That's all that non-stop talking Meg had to say.

"Odd?"

"That he wears a mask. I mean no one wears a mask. It's just not done."

"I'm sure he has a reason for it."

"Yes, probably so. Else he'd be much more odd. From what I could see though, he's quite nice looking." Meg's face split into a grin. "And it looks like you're quite taken with him." Christine's face flushed.

"You're crazy. He's my teacher."

"So? The mask adds a bit of mystery, don't ya think?"

Christine nodded unconsciously. "What do you mean 'I'm quite taken with him'?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chris, you were practically drooling all over yourself. So where are we eating?"

"Drooling? Did you just 'drooling'? That's ridiculous. I was not drooling. I do not drool."

"Okay. Whatever. You weren't nearly drooling then. Happy? Let's go. I'm hungry."


	4. Sing for me?

A/N: I tried to make this one a little longer. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for reviewing!

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

Erik

Erik's forgotten lunch sat on the desk. He was furiously working on a piece of music. The organ underneath him seemed to call out to him, but he certainly couldn't keep running down in the middle of the day covering himself in dirt and such. He'd cleaned the instrument up, but the path was something he didn't bother with.

The note he hit made his eye twitch. No good. He needed a voice, he just couldn't get this right. After a few more attempts he slammed his fist down on the lid of the piano and growled.

With a great sigh he dropped into the chair behind the desk and bit into his apple. He chewed thoughtfully trying to fix the notes in his head. The chair squeaked when he leaned back to rest his feet atop the desk.

After dropping the apple core in the can, he went back over to the piano. He stretched his arms and cracked his neck and sat back down on the bench. He scatted for a bit then settled on a song he'd just finished. It was about embracing the beauty of the night. His rich baritone resonated beautifully throughout the room. He sang softly, but his voice carried. His eyes slipped closed as he fell into the song. Unconsciously his voice grew louder as he neared the climax of the song.

His lean, long musician's fingers slid easily over the keys. The song was embedded in his mind. He could hear all the background music in his head. The figure slipping into the room didn't even stir him.

_Floating, falling,_

_Sweet intoxication,_

_Touch me, Trust…_

His eyes fluttered open when he felt a warm hand against his bare cheek.

"Don't stop." Christine whispered softly. He started the line over.

_Trust me_

_Savor each sensation._

_Let the dream begin,_

_Let your darker side give in,_

_To the power of the music that I write,_

_The power of the music of the night._

_You alone can make my song take flight,_

_Help make the music of the night._

Christine's eyebrows rose as he hit the last note, a high one, and seemed to hold it forever. Erik held her eyes with his own until the last note finally died. He took a deep breath.

"Miss Daae…." He trailed off, folding his hands over the lid of the piano. "Lovely to see you."

"T-that was a-amazing." She finally managed to blurt out. His eyebrow shot up.

"Why thank you."

"Uh…" Still stunned speechless, she shook her head. "Did you write that?" Erik felt his lips twitching, and nodded. Her eyes still had a slight mesmerized look to them. "Do play another."

Erik smiled, a full-blown smile, his first in a long while. Her fingers touched her lips, and his eyes followed. Desire hit him like a load of bricks.

"As you wish."

_Think of me,_

_Think of me fondly_

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me,_

_Once in a while, _

_Please promise me you'll try._

_When you find,_

_That once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free, _

_If you ever find a moment,_

_Spare a thought for me._

_We never said,_

_Our love was evergreen,_

_Or as unchanging as the sea,_

_But if you can still remember,_

_Stop and think of me._

_Think of all the things we've shared and seen,_

_Don't think about the way things might have been._

_Think of me,_

_Think of me waking,_

_Silent and resigned._

_Imagine me,_

_Trying too hard to put you from my mind._

_Recall those days, _

_Look back on all those times,_

_Think of the things we'll never do._

_There will never be a day,_

_When I won't think of you._

Erik felt himself getting lost in his music again. He hadn't meant to sing this one to her; it just came out all on its own.

_Flowers fade,_

_The fruits of summer fade,_

_They have their seasons,_

_So do we._

_But please promise me,_

_That sometimes, _

_You will think of me!_

"That one would sound a bit better on a soprano." Erik spoke softly.

"It was beautiful, Erik." Beautiful? No one had ever said anything about him was beautiful. Not even his music. His face tipped back to look her in the eyes and he gave her a confused smile.

"Thanks again." He glanced down to where his unfinished song sat. A thought came to him. One that would get his song finished and let him hear her voice. "Actually, I've a favor to ask of you."

"Sure, anything." He did his normal quasi-smile at her.

"Great. I've been working on this song, but I really can't seem to get the chord I'm looking for. Could I ask you to sing a few notes for me, just so I could hear how they sound against the music?"

Christine

Christine was walking down the hallway when she heard a heavenly sound. As she approached the open door, the sound grew. She saw the black silk of his hair and his contrasting forehead. As she walked closer, she noticed his eyes were closed, his head moving slightly along with the song. Unconsciously her hand slid over his uncovered cheek when he demanded to be touch. The beautiful turquoise eyes stared back at her.

"Don't stop." She begged.

_Trust me,_

_Savor each sensation…._

His speaking voice was something to be heard, but his singing voice was like nothing she'd ever heard before. Almost…angelic. As he finished, she hadn't expected such a high note to escape him.

"Miss Daae." He could give her goose bumps just by speaking her surname. His hands came up, and rested on the piano. She longed to slip hers inside them. "How lovely to see you."

Christine's lips moved as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out. After a long struggle she managed to stutter out, "T-that was a-amazing." His visible brow lifted.

"Why thank you."

"Uh…." She willed herself to say something, anything. "Did you write that?" Smooth. He smirked at her and nodded. She gazed at him, slightly in awe of him. "Do play another." Then he grinned at her. She felt the need to grab onto the piano in case a person's knees actually could go weak just from the sight of another. Her fingers checked her mouth on their own accord for any signs of possible droolage. She was safe, for now.

"As you wish."

He began and she soon discovered it was a love song. It sounded like something you would hear in some sort of tragic love story. His eyes fluttered shut again. Her fingers itched to stroke his face again.

When he turned his attention back onto her again, her mouth was slightly agape.

"That one would sound a bit better on a soprano."

"It was beautiful, Erik." He seemed genuinely confused by that, and glanced down at the keyboard.

"Thanks again." He looked back up his eyes alight. "Actually, I've a favor to ask of you.

"Sure, anything."

"Great. I've been working on this song, but I really can't seem to get the chord I'm looking for. Could I ask you to sing a few notes for me, just so I could hear how they sound against the music?"

Christine felt a dull pain in her chest. Could she sing again? Would it be too painful? Before she could stop herself she agreed.

Erik pushed a sloppily written sheet of music into her hands.

"Shall I warm you up?" She nodded absently gazing over the music in her hand. Don Juan Triumphant was penned at the top. The Point of No Return a bit further down. "Ready Christine?" She inwardly shuddered at the sound of her name rolling off of his tongue.

"Yes." He took her through a few scales, and she found it wasn't as painful as she thought it would be. Her voice easily matched the pitches.

"Perfect. You have the voice of an angel, Christine. Now this song, I wish to use this note here as a start." He penciled the note in. "The words are, 'No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart but dreams of love'." She sang as he requested. He shook his head. "No, try this." He erased the first note and wrote a second. He started again, only to shake his head again. "That doesn't sound right either."

"Maybe you could try this…." Christine made her own change and handed it back to him. He studied it thoughtfully, and then nodded.

"Let's try it shall we." When her voice hit the note it melded perfectly with his notes. "That's it. Finally. You're truly amazing. My thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I'll never be able to repay you. You're voice, it has a natural beauty to it. With training, it could be…well…perfect. I know I ask too much, but will you indulge me?"

"Okay?"

"I would love to hear Think of Me sung by you. I'll feed you the words, you do what you please with it."

"Uh…okay." She was still in awe of his compliments.

He whispered the words to her, and she sang, doing the song the justice it deserved. When she hit the ending she did a cadenza that took his breath away.

"Bravo. Thank you; thank you so much for that. That's exactly what the song needed."

She grinned at him. "Now I have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything you wish."

"Teach me. Train my voice. I wish to sing again. Please?"

"Nothing would give me more pleasure, Christine." He took her hand in his, and planted a soft kiss on her fingers. Christine's eyes widened. "When shall we begin?"

"Monday? After your classes? If you have the time."

"I would make time for you, my dear." She flushed slightly.

"Okay. Yes. I'll see you Monday then, Erik."

"Have a nice weekend Christine."


	5. Minty

A/N: I just can't seem to write more than a thousand words. Sorry. Extra chapter though. Yay.

Erik

The temperature may have been dropping, slowly as it was, but the sun was still ruthless. Erik felt the tender skin on the left side of his nose. Beads of sweat dribbled down his face. He wiped his arm across his forehead. He was standing in the massive hole that would someday be his basement. A land purchase was his reward for finishing his education. Someday, hopefully in the not too distant future, a house would stand here.

Erik was insistent on being a part of the construction of his home. He'd designed it after all. Construction had been his work the moment he stepped out of high school. He was thankful to the orphanage for that, if nothing else. He'd been given an education. Once he turned 18 and graduated, he left Canada, and headed for New York. People had talked about New York City. It was said to be amazing. That's where he'd been since he left. When he could scrap up some extra cash, he'd treat himself to an opera, or a show. He'd felt at home here.

The group he'd hired was a group he'd formerly worked with. The team didn't really bother with him, most likely were put off by the mask. It must have been quitting time because the crew was heading up the ladder and out of the 'basement'. Erik followed, and had a quick word with the foreman.

Lucy was chasing birds across the yard. Erik's white t-shirt was beyond dirty, and soaked with sweat. He pulled it off, and lay in the soft grass. Years of construction and masonry work had left him with a strong body. (A/N: Fans self) He put his arms behind his back and stretched out. The dog dropped a chewed up tennis ball on his chest just as he was about to drift off. His uncovered eye crept open and he gave her a mocked sigh of resignation.

"Alright." The ball flew over their heads and disappeared in the grass somewhere. Their game continued until Lucy, tongue lolling about, collapsed next to Erik. With a groan, Erik rolled over and went about standing up. "Shall we?" The dog yawned and stretched then trotted after him.

Much to Lucy's dismay, Erik blasted the air, which cause some minor air biting. She sat comfortably on her haunches, tongue still lolling, for the trip back into the city.

"Dearest, the tongue hanging out, it's not really becoming on you." She merely grinned at him, and continued as she was. A cold shower was in order when they arrived home. As Erik wrapped a towel around his hips (I can't help it, I'm in that sorta mood today) he pulled open a drawer looking for his mask adhesive. Thus far, the best working and least painful thing he could find was denture adhesive. It smelled minty fresh too.

He made short work of the mask reapplication and noticed his Fixodent supply was running short. Not good. He would have to go…shopping. A shudder moved over his body. Shopping was possibly the worst thing in the world. Small children crying, people hitting you with their bags, carts, etc. His staff paper was getting low as well. Not good at all. Now he would have to go the mall as well. He knew a guy who ran a store and gave him good deals.

A groan escaped his lips. More crying children, rude people, and possibly worse, giggly teenagers. It would be crowded on Sunday afternoon. Would it really be worth it? If he ran in and out, it would only take five minutes. That's it. Only five minutes.

Christine

"Come on Chris, keep up. We still have more stores to hit. Then I guess we can eat, and more stores after that. Ooooh, a nail salon! Let's get our nails done!" Meg pulled her toward the salon.

"I thought we had a schedule to keep." Christine said blandly, though she was actually enjoying herself. Meg looked thoughtful for a moment.

"You're right. Nails will have to wait. Wow, look at those jeans!" Christine was pulled into a store. She browsed for a little while, waiting for Meg. When she saw the triple-digit price of the aforementioned jeans, she decided that perhaps this wasn't the store for her. Thankfully Meg wasn't too long. After another clothing store and a music store, where Christine actually made a purchase, the headed toward the food court.

"Chris, do you have a tissue?" Christine was looking at the inlet of her new CD and dug in her purse for one. She offered it to Meg.

"Actually its for you." Christine looked up at Meg.

"Huh?"

"There's your man, in the piano store. Unless there just happens to be a second masked man walking the streets of New York." Meg pointed.

"My wha- Erik?" He was pulling out his wallet, handing over a card to the man behind the counter. His head turned when he heard his name. His lips curved at the sight of Christine standing outside the store. The cashier tapped him on the arm. He pursed his lips and signed the slip.

"Hi." Erik moved to her side.

"Hey. We were just about to get lunch, care to join us?"

Erik glanced over at the overly crowded food court. Had it have been just Christine he would have happily joined her, but that Giry girl was with her.

"Ah, I haven't really got the time today," he lied. "Rain check? Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Oh, okay." Her brows furrowed. "See you."

He nodded at Meg as he passed. "Ms. Giry."

She smiled at him. "Mr. Grenier." Erik walked briskly toward the nearest exit.

"Hmmph. Chinese then?" Meg was unsurprised to see her good friend a bit miffed by Erik's refusal.

"Anything you like." After they sat with their meals, Meg grinned at her. "He's attractive. You're allowed to like him, Chris."

Christine glared at her. "Do shut up." Meg merely chuckled at her.


	6. Say the word, and I will follow you

Hmmm. This one is especially short. Sorry. Hopefully will update more soon.

Um…some of both

Erik paced the classroom. Christine would be there in a few minutes for their first lesson. He'd already tuned the piano, but checked it once again. The sun shone in through the few blinds he left up. The street below was busy. He leaned over the piano gazing out the window.

Christine walked up to the doorway. Erik's face was turned away and framed by the sunlight. The left side of his face was simply perfect. He looked like some sort of god standing there. Her breath caught in her throat. As if he sensed her presence, his eyes met hers. They stood unblinking, gazing at each other.

"Miss Daae. Right on time. Come on in." He sat erect on the piano bench. "Would you prefer to sit or stand?"

"I'll just stand here at the piano." She laid her hand on the lid.

"Right. We'll start with some warm ups." He took her through the same set of warm-ups as he did several days before. Her tone was simply gorgeous. Erik found him self getting lost in the sound of her voice, and she was merely singing scales. He chose a few well-known songs for her to sing and another of his own work. When an hour had passed, Erik closed the lid over the keys. "That should be good for today."

Christine stood at the piano. "When should I come again?"

"Whenever you wish to." Erik gathered the sheets of music up and stacked them neatly on the piano top.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, if you like." He rose from the bench to escort her to the door. She told him that she had rehearsal, so she really must go. Naturally he wished to know for what she was rehearsing.

"You could sing the lead for that, easily." Christine beamed at him.

"Well, it's too late for that now. The show starts in only a few weeks. Next time, maybe."

"Your managers would have to be fools not to cast you." He slung his bag across his chest and flipped off the light switch. "What are you doing now? The chorus?"

"Dance." Erik locked the door behind them.

"Hmmm." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, goodnight." He told her as they parted ways.

"Bye bye."

Erik

Erik trailed her, staying a few cars behind. Surely this person who was singing the female lead couldn't be anywhere near as good as Christine. He saw her tiny white sedan pull off to the side of the road, into a meter-run parking spot. His big SUV cruised right by her as he rounded the block. He did not wish for her to see him follow her.

When he came back to where she'd park, thankfully he saw she'd gone already, he pulled in a few spots behind her. Erik slipped in behind a clueless blonde man, and slid easily into the shadows. In no time he was seated in one of the boxes. The chair squeaked lightly when he sat in it. There was a thick set of curtains covering the box, so there was little chance he would be seen or heard.

A loud giggle sounded. Giry's giggle. He stole a quick glance down at the stage through the opening in the curtains. Christine smiled brightly at her friend. A short gray-haired man quietly told the cast to set for the beginning of the show. The orchestra played the overture, and Erik sat back to listen. He winced when a saxophone hit a sharp note, but no one stopped to correct it.

A male, a tenor, Erik assumed the lead male, was the first to sing. His voice was a bit shaky, and ever so slightly nasal, but overall it was good. The male chorus seemed to have the next bit. Their voices were powerful and pleasing. Female voices soon mingled with the men. The first number was delightful, he had to remind himself not to applaud. Some dialogue then a short reprise of the former song followed this.

When the next song started, Erik had the urge to cover his ears. The woman's voice was mediocre at best. Obviously she didn't have the ability to hit the high notes written in the score, as she screeched them out. Erik rose again, and took a good look at the 3 imbeciles that sat in the third row. The short man, a slightly taller and darker man sat next to him, and the blonde boob he'd followed in. They weren't stopping her, they let her continue to butcher the song. The blonde even went as far as clapping adamantly after the horrific number.

Who let these idiots into the musical theater business?

Christine smiled and put her arms around the boy who was lucky enough to be selected as her dance partner. The dance number went smoothly, although a few feet were out of step. His eyes watched her as she finished the dance and disappeared off stage.

Another dreadful massacre followed. He couldn't even sit through it until the end. That woman had to go. These _managers_ didn't seem to have a bit of musical sense. Someone needed to manage them. The young one grinned stupidly at the stage. Erik merely shook his head and took his leave.


	7. Down once more

Erik

Erik found some of the pieces from the show Christine's group was performing. He would let her practice on those until he figured out what to do about the horrible creature that had been singing in what should be Christine's lead. His fingers tapped against the piano top as he thought on it, and waited for Christine's arrival.

She'd come everyday the last week. Even after only a week her voice was much improved. He supposed that singing was similar to riding a bicycle; you never really forgot how to do it. She only needed to be reminded. Soon she wouldn't need him anymore. Why did that have his inside clenching?

Every lesson he learned something else to love about her. There, he could admit it, at the very least, to himself. Which was ridiculous. How could one who was never loved, even know what love was? It was preposterous. Yet he knew _exactly_ what it was. He was supposed to be a professional…he couldn't go about falling in love with students. Surely there was some sort of law against it. Not that he could help it.

Maybe it wasn't love. Maybe it was just because she didn't question him or the mask, although he did notice her attention quite often on the right side of his face. That worried him. The lessons would be over if she ever saw him revealed. No doubt of it. And he couldn't stand the thought of that.

She actually seemed to enjoy his company, and his music. Perhaps another reason he thought himself in love with her. If he could see to her singing again, starring in her show, he would be content with that. Yes, he thought as he glared at the piano keys, yes, that would be enough. As long as she was happy. She would come in a few moments, and learn the pieces for the show. Then he would follow her to her practice for a few more glimpses of her. He could suffer through hearing this other woman's hateful voice to see Christine. Within the week, the woman wouldn't be a problem anymore. He'd see to it.

Christine

"What do you mean she's broken her leg?" Richard Firmin screamed into his cell phone. "Well that's just great. With one week to go we have no singer." Richard cleared his throat. "Carly will not be coming today. Apparently she's decided to fall down three flights of stairs and break her leg."

"Oh no! That's terrible!" Andre's face saddened.

"I know. How dare she, who's going to take her place?"

Andre's brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Surely she's got an understudy?" Ryan stood, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No. There's barely enough cast members as it is."

Ryan's face grew angry. "What! You two better have someone to take her place by the end of the day." Ryan stormed out of the theater.

"What are we going to do Andre?"

"Christine Daae could sing it." Meg Giry stood at the edge of the stage. Christine's head turned toward Meg, her mouth slightly agape.

"What? Who?" This from Richard.

"Christine." Meg pointed at her.

"A dancing girl?"

"She's been taking lessons." Meg grinned at her.

"Ah well, we've nothing to lose I suppose although perhaps a chorus member would be more suitable…."

"Oh let her sing Richard." Andre motioned Christine forward. Christine gave Meg an I'm-so-going-to-kill-you look. Christine bit her lip nervously.

She knew she could sing it. Hadn't Erik praised her all week long? She took a deep breath and blew the managers away.

"Well, yes, I think she'll do, don't you Richard."

"Yes, yes, she'll be fine. Let's begin then."

"I'm going to kill you." Christine told Meg as they walked out of the theater.

"No you're not. You're going to thank me for telling them you could sing, therefore landing you the lead role. I'm waiting."

Christine shook her head, and laughed. "Thank you."

Meg grinned at her. "Welcome. Sounds like your lessons are really paying off."

"Yes, I suppose so." She smiled to herself as Meg headed in a different direction and she got into her own car. She didn't notice the familiar SUV that followed back to her house.

Erik

The sound of the darker manager's aggravated conversation had Erik's lips curving into a smile. Bless Giry for putting the spotlight on Christine. Nerves tightened her throat; he could hear it when she started to sing.Gently rising from his seathe watched her. Once she relaxed the song flowed beautifully and he was unable to tear himself away from the sight of her.

Her voice righted all the wrongs of the previous evenings he sat here. He never wanted the practice to end. It did, of course. Why he followed her home, he had no idea. No cars were parked in the driveway. No lights on until she put them on. When she was safely inside he pulled away. Surely she didn't live alone in the big house.

"Erik?" He'd just pushed the janitor's door open when he heard his name. His head shot around.

"Christine." With her lessons and her practices he no longer had time to go and use the organ after classes. In between classes was his only chance now. "Yes?"

She smiled strangely at him. "Where are you going?"

How does one explain they are going to use the magnificent forgotten instrument in the dank cellar of the building?

"Uh…come, I'll show you." For some unknown reason, she followed him. He flicked a flashlight on, and offered her his hand. "Watch your step."The steppedover the litter of brooms and mops on the floor. The dim light barely penetrated a few feet in the dark, but he knew the way. Her small hand fit perfectly in his. When he glanced back at her, she was looking at him oddly.

"Almost there." He whispered. His voice echoed off the walls. "Stairs." He told her when they reached them. When they were nearly at the bottom, she missed a step and nearly tripped. With his quick reflexes he turned just in time for her to fall against his chest. His arms went around her, to steady her. They were practically nose-to-nose with her on the upper step. She grabbed his broad shoulders. Her eyes closed, and she seemed to breathe in the scent of him. His jaw tightened when her lips parted and he could feel her breath against his uncovered cheek. Tendrils of her long hair tickled his fingertips. He wanted to pull back gently on her hair, and ravage her mouth, and neck, and collarbone...

When her eyes fluttered open, they met his. Her head tilted back, just as he wished. A small pink tongue darted out, wetting her lips. His control was about to snap. A small taste, that's all he wanted. Needed.Indulging himself a bit, his hand curved around her chin and his thumb grazed her lips. Why did he have to remembershe was his student when his lips were a mere breath away from hers.

Groaning inwardly, sighing outwardly,he stepped down onto the next stair.

"Only a few more steps." Her hand slipped into his again.


	8. Don who?

Another short one. Sorry. Hopefully you won't be too disappointed. Thanks again for reviewing.

Christine

"Almost there." His low whisper sent shivers up her spine. She couldn't see more than a few feet in front of herself. Erik's hand was warm and calloused. She held it tightly.

Though she had no idea what could possibly be down this far, she trusted him. A moment later he hesitated, and then she felt his breath warm against her skin.

"Stairs." Slowly and carefully they wandered down the stairs. She overstepped one step near the bottom and fell forward. Erik stepped around so she would fall into him. His chest felt like a brick wall. Bands of steel went around her waist to keep her from falling back. Quickly her hand moved to his shoulders. Being smashed up against his chest had a sharp pang of desire shooting through her. She felt her eyes flutter shut and she pushed her face closer to his neck, inhaling him. Since he smelled so good, she really just wanted to taste him there as well.

When she felt his body stiffen slightly, she looked up into those beautiful turquoise eyes and saw a hunger there. She inclined her head, and licked her lips, practically tasting the kiss they were about to share. One moment his lips were all but caressing, then the next the warmth of him was gone.

"Only a few more steps." With a small sigh, she took his hand again. He led her into an old abandon classroom of some sort. Much to her dismay, he dropped her hand then, and moved to like some candles. Obviously he spent some time down here. A lush looking bench sat in front of an impressive organ, both seemed out of place in the forgotten room.

"Wow." The organ was quite big. (Ahem.) "Play something." He gave her a partial grin, and sat. Sound filled the room; then his voice mingled with the sound. She was quite certain she'd never heard something so beautiful, and she was sure she never would again. As he played, he seemed to relax fully, as if he'd forgotten she was still there. She skirted quietly around the bulky instrument to watch him.

His long fingers all but caressed the keys. He'd rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, displaying his forearms. It was quite amazing just to stand here and watch him play. He made it look so effortless. Dark, thick lashes fanned out from his eyes, his breathing was steady. His full lips parted as he finished his song.

"Sit." He scooted over, and patted the bench next to him. The notes he played were familiar, but somehow new being played on such an instrument. "Sing." He whispered as he leaned closer reaching for a low note. Sitting up straight, she belted out a few notes, and he gave a satisfied sigh.

Next he played a duet, _Beauty and the Beast_. He smirked at her, but she sang. He sang the counterpart. When she smiled at him, his eyes fell to the keys. A beep sounded from his watch.

"Well, I must go." Christine stood with him as he blew the candles out. The dim beam from the flashlight led them out of the classroom. When they reached the janitors room, he handed her her bag. She had a cobweb clinging to her hair. His fingers quickly removed it, and then brushed her hair back down. He looked at her so sadly.

Without her permission, her fingers brushed against his bare cheek as they'd done weeks ago. He leaned into her touch and his breath seemed to rush out. Her fingers curled around his neck and she leaned up, meaning to kiss his cheek. But his face turned and her lips brushed his.

His body stiffened at first, but her fingers slid into his hair, and she pulled him closer. His mind fought against his body for all of two seconds before he kissed her back. She was pulled tightly against him. A little shocked, her mouth parted in reply. She more felt him groan, than heard it. Possessively his tongue pushed inside her mouth. When she pushed hers against his, he withdrew. His breathing was erratic and he pressed two fingers to his bottom lip.

He gave her an incredulous look, and started backing up. He tripped once over an overturned mop bucket, before he made it to the door. As he gulped deeply, his Adam's apple bobbed. "I-I must go." He wretched the door open and walked out.

Erik

I'm weak, he thought, there's nothing else to it. A stronger man could have resisted her, he told himself as he washed a bit of grime off of his fingers. He dried his hands and angrily threw the towel in the trashcan. When she moved to kiss his cheek he knew that's what she'd meant to do, he couldn't stop himself. He simply had to taste her.

Yes, he'd tasted her. Then ran off like a scared little rabbit. He shook his head, disgusted with himself. What would she think of him now?

When he stepped into his classroom, 20 people sat staring back at him. He blanched.

"Um…right." He shuffled through his paperwork. What the hell class was this anyways? After a few moments, he decided he couldn't teach today, and handed out an assignment, and dismissed his class.

He was her teacher, why couldn't he remember that? What he was going to say to her when their lesson started in less than two hours, he had no idea. If she even came.


	9. Greatest Story ever told

Thanks everyone for your reviews! It means so much to me. This chapter seemed to end up only in Erik. I also stole a song from someone else. Some dude from the What a Girl Wants soundtrack deserves credit for that. Not I. I just like it. Um...I guess that's it. On with it.

Erik

She came. Flushing slightly, he rose from his desk.

"Ah, Ms. Daae." Hmmm, he thought, let's see how things play out if I act as if nothing happened.

"Mr. Grenier. Are we still having a lesson today?"

"Of course, if you wish."

"Oh yes, I need all the practice I can get. Didn't I tell you, our singer broke her leg, and I'll be singing the lead?"

"Ah, that's good news." Of course, he already knew.

"You should come. It's opening next weekend. I'd like for you to be there."

Having already purchased a ticket, it was an easy promise to keep. "If you wish it, I will come."

"Thank you." She smiled warmly at him.

"Yes, well, shall we begin?" Christine nodded and took her normal place standing at the piano. "Your first number then." He already had her role mapped out. To run the whole show with her had been his intention. "Have you got the time for the show today?"

"Should be fine." He didn't bother with warming her up, but just got into it. They were only halfway done, when he paused, in amazement.

"Who taught you to sing? I can tell your voice has been trained before me." His eyebrow rose at her. He leaned back to gaze at her, and saw her face fall.

"M-my mother taught me." Her lips quivered.

"Well, why then do you want me to…? Ah." Realization dawned on him. "I'm sorry, Christine." Tears shimmered on her lashes. He stood and took her hands in his. "How long?"

He pulled her into one of the chairs, and sat next to her. He felt his heart breaking for her as she told him her story. She had no one left. She was alone. Just like him. Of course he felt bad for her loss, but there was something else they had in common. Although, he hadn't had anyone to begin with. That didn't change that they were both alone now. He held her while she cried. Amazed with his ability to comfort. Was that something else that just came naturally to a person? Unable to recall a single moment of comfort in his life, it came easily to him. Perhaps just because it was Christine. His fingers ran over her hair and he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "It's alright." Her face was buried against his neck.

"Thank you, Erik." He tilted his head at her in a most endearing manner, and then tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Why?"

"For listening." His lips curled.

"I'll listen to anything you have to say, my dear." Rising, he pulled her up with him. "Perhaps we've had enough of a lesson today."

"Yes, I suppose so." He gathered the score up. "Indulge me?" He turned around at the use of the phrase.

"Of course." He leaned against the piano.

"Sing something for me."

"Hmm. Any requests?" Slowly, he reclined back on to the bench.

"Something of yours?" He thought on it for a moment then started playing a slow tune. It seemed fitting.

_Thank you for this moment,_

_I've gotta say beautiful you are_

_Of all the hopes and dreams I could've prayed for,_

_There you are._

He gazed at her, a smile playing at his lips.

_If I could have one dance forever, _

_I would take you by the hand,_

_Tonight it's you and I together,_

_I'm so glad I'm your man._

_And if I lived a thousand years, you know,_

_I never could explain,_

_The way I lost my heart to you,_

_That day._

_But if destiny decided,_

_I should look the other way,_

_Then the world would never know,_

_The greatest story ever told._

_And did I tell you that I love you tonight?_

_I don't hear the music,_

_When I'm looking in your eyes._

_But I feel the rhythm of your body,_

_Close to mine._

_It's the way we touch,_

_It sends me._

_It's the way we'll always feel_

_Your kiss, your pretty smile_

_You know I'd die for._

_Oh Baby, _

_You're all I need._

_And if I lived a thousand years you know_

_I never could explain,_

_The way I lost my heart to you,_

_That day._

_But if destiny decided,_

_I should look the other way,_

_Then the world would never know,_

_The greatest story ever told._

_And did I tell you that I love you,_

_Just how much I need you._

_Did I tell you that I love you?_

_Tonight… _

_Tonight…_

_And if I lived a thousand years you know_

_I never could explain,_

_The way I lost my heart to you,_

_That day._

_But if destiny decided,_

_I should look the other way,_

_Then the world would never know,_

_The greatest story ever told._

_Did I tell you that I love you?_

_Just how much I really need you?_

_Did I tell you that I love you tonight?_

Christine blinked a few times. Her lips curled into a smile.

"How do you come up with such wonderful songs?" She shook her head, as if she was baffled.

"Different things inspire me in different ways. Sometimes there's so much inside my head, music, lyrics, I'm afraid I'll lose something. Usually it's mostly crap, but on occasion one sticks with me." He chuckled at himself.

"Crap? Yeah…sure. It must be amazing to have that talent."

"Everyone could have it, if they only listened."

"Listen to what?"

He shook his head, and then patted his chest. "To this. Where do you think inspiration comes from? Everyone's got that. Architects, poets, composers. Everyone."

Her head tilted in thought. "Yes, I think you're right. I should go, I'll be late."

"Yes. Practice. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Uh huh. I'll be here. Goodnight Erik." Christine walked out of the room, toward the parking lot. Meg Giry followed behind her.

That lil sneak!


	10. I remember

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Thanks again to all who reviewed. You rock. This one's a bit longer. Hope you enjoy!

**Christine**

Before she knew it, it was opening day. Driving to the theater, she began to get really nervous. She'd never sung in front of this many people. The theater would be filled, hopefully, and there couldn't be any slip-ups. Erik had practiced the entire show with her, and praised her. She clung to every bit of confidence he gave her. He'd promised to be here tonight.

Blowing out a shaky breath, she eased into a parking spot. The past few nights they'd done full dress rehearsals so she was prepared for the make-up and wardrobe. She locked her car, and headed in the back entrance. There was even a small dressing room for her. She couldn't believe it.

On the dressing table lay a dark red rose with a bow of fine, black silk tied around it. All of the thorns had been removed, and a small card sat next to it.

_Break a leg. _

_E.G._

A slow smile spread across her face as she brought the flower to her nose. Suddenly, everything was all right. Erik would be there, and everything would be perfect. Her voice would be beautiful. All the comedic lines would be funny. No one would miss a step. The orchestra would match her voice wonderfully, and their show would be a hit.

She smiled warmly as the make-up team member came in to get her ready.

**Erik**

He'd reserved his normal box for that evening's performance. Of course this time the curtain would be drawn and he wouldn't have to steal small glances. He was confident that she would sing well. The two managers, with the blonde, whom he could only peg as patron due to the fact that he didn't seem to play much a part in the actual play, sat in the box across from him. The group happily sipped champagne. They didn't seem a bit worried. Perhaps that was because, from what he could see, they'd nearly sold every seat.

At once, the houselights dimmed, and the orchestra started the overture. Soon enough the actors were filling the stage. The men's chorus seemed to have it together a bit more than they had just a few days ago. When Christine appeared on the stage, Erik sat up straighter. She looked stunning in her costume. Her long chocolate curls had been pulled back. He pulled the lush chair he was sitting in, up a little bit, and chanced leaning over the wall of the box.

The dancers had still been a bit off, and a few sour notes had been hit, but other than that, the show was excellent. Christine had been perfect. Erik stood to applaud her. He noticed her eyes flicker up to his box, and he gave her the biggest smile the mask would allow. Her own smile grew. As the curtain closed, Erik righted the chair, and grabbed the bunch of roses he'd gotten her. He would offer to take her out to celebrate her triumph, and fingers crossed, she would accept.

As he slipped behind the stage, there was a huge crowd full of people undressing from their costumes, some hugging, others slapping each other on the back. The two fools were congratulating the male lead. Where was Christine? The blonde patron came up to the fools pointing at his program. Andre, the little one, pointed to a hallway. Erik's eyes narrowed, as he made to follow the patron.

The inconsiderate idiot grabbed a bouquet of flowers from some man, and pushed a door open. Erik knew right then that this was Christine's dressing room. How dare this man just simply walk in? After a moment, when the idiot hadn't been rejected from the room, Erik inched closer.

"Ryan, it's been so long!" Ryan complimented her numerous times, handing her the stolen flowers. She had been holding his rose. She brought the stolen flowers up to her nose to sniff them, and then set all of the flowers back on her table.

Christine hugged the idiot then. He had the nerve to kiss her cheek.

"Let me take you to supper Chris." Idiot demanded. Chris…Erik despised that. That's what Giry called her.

"Well, I don't…"

"I'll go get my car. I'll just be a few moments." When Ryan turned to leave the room, Erik made himself scarce. He glared at the back of the idiot's head.

"Ignorant fool." He murmured to himself. Straightening himself from his hiding spot, he walked over to her door. He, at least, had the decency to knock. He saw the knob turning.

"Ryan, I just don't feel like…oh Erik!" She grinned.

"For you, my dear." He held the roses out for her.

"Oh, thank you Erik." After properly sniffing them, she reached up and hugged him. And kissed his cheek. Ha!

"Anytime. You were wonderful, absolutely stunning. Soon you'll be lighting up Broadway. I have no doubt of that." Her face flushed a bit, and she smiled at him. She had apparently finished removing her costume. She was back in jeans and a sweater. The make-up had been removed, for the most part. And her hair was falling from its confines. "Would you let me have the honor of taking you out to celebrate?" Unconsciously he brushed the bit of leftover make-up from her cheek.

When she smiled at him, he brought her hand to his lips.

"I don't know if I'm really fit to go anywhere…"

"You look beautiful." She flushed brighter.

"What a wonderful liar you are. Maybe you should act. Since you put it that way though, how could I refuse?"

"You can't; wouldn't be polite at all." She laughed and grabbed her things. "Shall we?" More curls escaped as she nodded her head.

Her fingers curled around his as he led her to his car.

**Ryan** (Raoul…yuck…ew…I don't even wanna write it)

Ryan had been unable to attend the rehearsals for the past week. When he sat next to Richard, he flipped open the program. Carly's picture was still there for the lead, but the managers had posted a message outside the theater doors. Christine Daae, the name sound familiar to him. He couldn't place why though. The managers had told him that she'd been a dancer, not from the chorus.

Shrugging he settled down for the long three hours ahead of him. Why did his father have to give this part of his business to run? He hated musical theater. Loathed it. Not only did he have to attend their rehearsals, but now he also had to actually watch the show. From what he saw the last time he'd been there, the show would probably be horrible. Too bad he hadn't thought to bring his Walkman, he could at least hear the score to the game. He gave himself a private laugh.

When Christine Daae took the stage he knew she sort of looked familiar too. Her hair was pulled back, but any fool could tell it was normal a mass of curls. Even him. (Ha, ha.) When she sang, it finally came to him. He believed she had been his neighbor a while ago. He remembered her mother; she was nearly the very image of her. They'd shared milk and cookies after visiting the park. He remembered always having a sort of fondness for the girl, Christine, even though she'd been several years younger than him. Mrs. Daae had been so warm and friendly, where his mother was cold. He remembered wishing he could be Christine's big brother so that could be his mother too.

Maybe that was why he'd been so nice to the little girl. He stood 'bravo'ing her. Then went backstage to find her. The jumble of people made everything confusing. Finally he found the managers and they directed him in the right direction. A man standing with one of the dancers was holding a bouquet. "Ah yes, flowers." He unburdened the man of his flowers. Without thinking, he pushed her dressing room door open. She was pulling a sweater on.

"Is that really you Christine? Is this what happened to that sweet little girl?" She had been picking up a red rose when he started to speak. She turned to face him.

"Ryan, it's been such a long time!" He handed her the borrowed flowers. She sniffed at them. "Thank you."

"You were good, Chris. Really, really good. Let me take you to supper Chris."

"Well, I don't…"

Not hearing her, he continued. "I'll just go get my car. I'll just be a few minutes." With that he left.

Not a few moments, but ten minutes later he arrived back at her room to find the room empty and the girl gone. Extremely miffed, he swore, and headed back into the mess of traffic outside.

**Christine**

She felt as if she were walking on air. They had gotten a standing ovation, and she noticed Erik clapping wildly. For her. Quickly she rid herself of her make-up, and costume. Reaching for Erik's rose, she heard someone behind her.

"Is that really you Christine? Is this what happened to that sweet little girl?" Ryan stood behind her holding a bunch of flowers.

"Ryan, it's been such a long time!"

"You were good, Chris. Really, really good." So he wasn't eloquent with words. "Let me take you to supper Chris." Actually she'd been hoping Erik would come offer to take her out.

"Well I don't…"

"I'll just go get my car. I'll just be a few minutes." He turned and left before she could even refuse. She gave an aggravated sigh. A moment later a knock sounded on the door.

"Ryan, I just don't feel like…oh Erik!" She smiled happily at him. He held out a bunch of roses.

"For you, my dear." Her heart always sped up when he used that endearment on her.

"Oh, thank you Erik." He could be so sweet. She sniffed at the beautiful, fragrant roses. They made Ryan's flowers look like a bunch of weeds. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his bare cheek.

"Anytime. You were wonderful, absolutely stunning. Soon you'll be lighting up Broadway. I have no doubt of that." Well that certainly beat, 'really really good' didn't it? . "Would you let me have the honor of taking you out to celebrate?" She felt his fingertips at her cheek. She smiled at him, and he kissed her fingertips.

"I don't know if I'm really fit to go anywhere…"

"You look beautiful." Her face got hot.

"What a wonderful liar you are. Maybe you should act. Since you put it that way though, how could I refuse?"

"You can't; wouldn't be polite at all." As she grabbed her things, she chuckled at him. "Shall we?" She nodded and grabbed his hand.

Ryan forgotten, she followed Erik outside.


	11. Passion play

A/N: I've taken all suggestions to heart. I've tried not using any particular view point in this one. Let me know what you think. I won't abandon the fic, no matter how hard it is to muddle through. I think I may be on the brink of a M rating here. Thanks for reviewing. On with it.

For one who never felt comfortable in other people's company, Erik found himself quite content in Christine's. Their celebratory meal took place at one of Christine's favorite restaurants. They served French foods, and Erik placed a champagne order fluently in the language. Christine seemed delighted.

"I had to drop out after a year. I was just horrible with it." She spoke of the language.

"Vous êtes beau, mon ange. Vous avez capturé mon coeur." Erik kissed each of her fingers in a very French-like manner.

Christine laughed. "See, no idea." Erik smirked then lifted his eyes in thought.

"Vous êtes ma vie, mon tout. Je vous aimerai jusqu'au jour où je meurs." Gaining confidence of course because she had no clue what he was telling her. Even if every word was the truth. The waiter eyed the mask warily, but then smiled. They ordered, and the waiter disappeared again.

"So what did you say? Are you going to tell me?" Erik rested his uncovered cheek in his palm after pouring the champagne.

"One day, perhaps." His eyes twinkled. He toasted her. They talked. About everything, about nothing. He couldn't recall if he'd ever sat down and had a meal and just talked. She laughed, not at him, but with him, or because of him. It was a nice change.

"Soin à danser?" Erik asked, all innocence. Christine gave him an exasperated look, to which he chuckled. "Would you care to dance?" He nodded toward several couples on the part of the restaurant, which was designated as a sort of dance floor.

Instantly she brightened. "Yes, I would." Erik rose, and helped her from her chair. They headed toward the other couples. He twirled her on to the floor then rested his hand against the curve of her hip.

With him wearing a full suit, vest included, she felt horribly underdressed. She wished she'd thought of something else to bring with her. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck. His still overgrown hair was so soft as she ran it through her hand. Sighing contentedly, she rested her head in the curve of his neck.

"Je suis dans le ciel." He whispered against her ear. Much too quickly, the song ended and to his annoyance he started heading back toward their table. After a bit of a tussle with the check, Erik paid and they were on their way. It was well past one in the morning as Erik pulled in behind her compact car. While she struggled with her bag and flowers, he had opened the door for her.

"My dear," he purred as he offered his hand. When she was safely on the ground he escorted her to her car.

"Thank you Erik, the day was nearly perfect." As they approached her car, his brows drew together.

"And what would have made it perfect?" Her shy smile had the blood rushing from his head. His fingers dropped hers, only to cup her face. When his face was a mere inch from hers, he spoke. "I really shouldn't be doing this, but I find I can't stop myself." His lips caressed hers until they parted. He leaned her head back and kissed her properly. Christine was pressed between the steel of her car and the hardness of Erik's body. But she wasn't complaining. The chill of the evening seemed to evaporate from the heat of them.

Her fingers trailed up his chest, well what wasn't being pressed to hers. One small maneuver from her, and her hips were cradling his. Of its own accord, his hard thigh found it's way between hers. She dragged his head closer, despising the mask, as it prevented her from kissing him fully. Her fingers pushed it gently aside and she got back to work.

Turning briefly for a moment he righted the mask. "Please, don't touch the mask, my dear. Whatever you do, leave the mask as it is."

"But Erik, I can't-" Her words were cut off by his demanding kiss. His deft fingers quickly let her hair from its confines, dropping the pins on the ground. He spread the curls out in his fingers, and then buried his face in them. His forearms supported him against the car frame, as his labored breathing eventually slowed. Probably the hardest thing he'd ever have to do, or ever done for that matter, was prying his body away from the warm, eager body of Christine. His fingertips touched her swollen lips.

"Bonne nuit, mon amour." Erik stepped back from her.

"Erik?" She peeled herself off of the car.

"Yes?"

"Will you come tomorrow too?" He straightened his tie.

"But of course, Christine, if you wish it."

"Please."

"Then I shall." Erik waited until she had started her car and pulled into the road. The a/c that he'd blasted did nothing for the fever that seemed to take over his body.

Christine watched as he followed her home. It sort of made her feel safe, knowing that he was right behind her if she needed him. When she was finally in her driveway, he flashed his lights at her, and she, forgetting it was late, beeped once. She wished she had the courage to ask him in, so she could lie in the safety of his arms all night. Instead, she waved curtly and went inside.

Erik sat with his forehead pressed against the cool glass as he watched her lights flicker on. He sat like a lovesick fool outside her house until the house was finally dark again.

Once he slid the vehicle back into park, he began to think. He was putting his career in jeopardy. Plus Christine's future at the school. Then again he knew he would give it all up, for just a moment with her. His own place was dark and depressing. Not even Lucy waited up for him this late. Unable to sleep, he headed for his piano. Ridding himself of his jacket, vest and tie, he sat to play, to compose.

He always came back to his own 'Don Juan' when he played while thinking of her. Even more so now. When he closed his eyes he could see Christine as Aminta, and himself as Don Juan. If his mind hadn't been filled with lust at that moment, he would've laughed outright at his thoughts.

Finishing the opera didn't quite give him the release he was looking for.

**What Erik said:**

_Vous êtes beau, mon ange. Vous avez capturé mon Coeur._

You are beautiful, my angel. You have captured my heart.

_Vous êtes ma vie, mon tout. Je vous aimerai jusqu'au jour où je meurs._

You are my life, my everything. I will love you until the day I die.

_Je suis dans le ciel._

I am in Heaven.

What a heart breaker.


	12. Betrayal

A/N: I snuck another little one in tonight. Trypt, thanks for pointing that out. It all makes sense now. Duh. I, obviously, do not speak a bit of French. I just thought him being from Canada, and the name sounds French, that maybe he should be able to speak it. Thanks to all others who've reviewed. Enjoy.

The next week, Meg spilled the beans.

"So, who's your voice tutor Chris?" Meg studied her perfect nails as she waited for Christine to answer.

"Well…uh…." Meg looked up.

"Oh I heard him sing to you Chris, come on. I don't know why you wouldn't tell me. It's only logical."

"Well, you would misinterpret it."

"I doubt it. I heard him pouring out his emotions to you. Obviously he feels the same way you do." Meg merely rolled her eyes.

"What are you talking about Meg?"

"I heard something about him telling you that he loves you…blathering on about it."

"What? It was just a song."

"Whatever. He's got the 'smitten' look all over his face…just like you." Christine blushed.

"You're out of your mind."

"Uh huh." A few peaceful moments of silence settled between them. "So, what's under the mask?"

Christine narrowed her eyes at Meg. "Well I have no idea." She really didn't, she had only moved the mask a fraction of an inch.

"Did you kiss him?" Meg grinned.

"That is absolutely none of your business." Christine's lips pursed, and she glared at Meg.

"Oh, you did! Didn't you?" Remembering their little incident against her car, she flushed even hotter.

"Meg, I'm not discussing anything with you."

"Just one thing. Is he a good kisser? He looks like he would be…"

"Shut. Up." The object of their conversation chose that moment to come out of his classroom. A smile moved over his face.

"Afternoon ladies."

"Good afternoon Mr. Grenier." Meg practically curtsied.

"Hello Erik." Christine acted with and air of indifference.

"Christine." He gave her an ever-so-subtle wink. Meg scoffed when he was nearly out of earshot.

"Yeah, the man is totally diggin' you."

"Let's go down to the organ today, shall we? I have something I wish to hear you sing, if you don't mind." He would live to regret these words.

"No, not at all." She followed him, taking his hand, as always. He lit the candles while she fiddled around with the organ. After he warmed her up he slip his opera into her hands.

"_The point of no return, _that's what I wish to hear." Her eyes widened and jaw dropped slightly as she read the words.

"Okay." He started to play, then sang his bit, his eyes closing almost instantly. When she started her part, his breath quickened. Unconsciously Christine laid her hand on his shoulder. As the song moved onward, he felt her hand caressing his bare cheek and forehead. Curiosity overcame her.

Between her touch and being so engrossed in the song, he didn't feel her easing the mask away from his face. With his eyes being closed, he also missed her moment of surprise, which quickly faded into sympathy. When she caressed the ruined side of his face, he couldn't feel it. The dead scar tissue had no feeling.

His eyes fluttered open when she missed her cue. Her hand rested on his good cheek. The forgotten Don Juan had floated to the floor. His cool leather mask was being held tightly in her hand. Still unaware of what she had done, he looked up at her questioningly. Tears clung to her lashes.

Pity. He's seen that emotion once or twice before. Instantly his hand flew to his uncovered flesh. He quickly pushed back from the organ, knocking her to the ground. He gave her his back, and a small nearly inaudible whimper escaped his lips.

He'd told her, hadn't he? Leave the mask alone. Suddenly weak, he dropped to his knees. It was over now; surely she'd run from the room after seeing his hideous face. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain, trying to block out the look of pity. Disgust had come before pity, it always had. Twin tears rolled down his cheeks, whole and ruined.

"Why Christine? Why?" Sobbing now, he doubled over, feeling sick. His hand reached out, searching for his mask. She turned his hand over and placed the mask in it. He turned from her again, replacing the mask.

When he turned back, he was a different man. His shoulders slumped, and his face was grim. He bent to pick his masterpiece up off the grime covered floor. Unable to look at her, he picked up the flashlight.

"Erik…"

"I must return." With that, he blew the candles out and handed her the flashlight.

Christine felt the tears fill her eyes again. The poor man. The right side of his face looked as if it had suffered a horrible burn and healed into scar tissue. And she'd exposed him. Broken him.

Once they were back in the janitor closet, she hurried to catch up with him. When they arrived back at his classroom, he held her bag out to her.

"Erik…"

"Please leave." She flinched at the coldness of his words.

"But Erik-"

"Will you please just leave?" He dropped her bag on the floor and walked away from her. Christine followed him.

"Erik, I'm so-"

"Get out." He growled softly from in between clenched teeth.

Now it was her turn to whimper.

"Please Erik." He moved so quickly, she stepped back, startled. His arm shot out, she flinched. He merely pointed to the open door.

"**GET OUT!"** Frightened, she picked her bag up, but hesitated at the door. She turned back; his head was resting in both of his palms.

"I'm so sorry, Erik." She whispered, barely audible, rivulets of tears running down her cheeks. His eyes were bright when he looked up at her.

"Go," he begged, his voice thick with emotion. Emotion he'd tried to forget. He watched as she walked out, closing the door behind her.

Betrayal from anyone else, he could have taken. Not her though. No onecould hurt him this badly. **No one but her**


	13. How you've repaid me

A/N: I just want to thank everyone for all the offers of help. Should I choose to include more french, I will check with someone. K.G. did I really choose your surname? That's awesome. Plus, I really think that Erik would just be a naturally good kisser...well Gerik anyways. Thanks for reviewing. I love you all. On with it.

Hours later, while his SUV sat idling outside the theater, he pondered he unmasking. Yes, she had done to him what he considered the worst kind of betrayal, but…she didn't run from him. Aside from the pity, she didn't look at him any differently.

When she tried to apologize, he'd pushed her away. Made her cry. Life was truly unfair. Why should he be feeling guilty when she had stripped away all of his defenses? After he'd made a point of asking, no, telling her to not touch it.

Maybe she was different. Maybe, just maybe she'd be able to see the man behind the mask.

He was frightened. The lessons would probably end. If not because of his face, then because of the way he acted. He was quite certain he couldn't bear that.

Erik, understandably, didn't attend the show that night, at least to Christine's knowledge. There was no rose in her dressing room, as there had been for every performance. The show was not her best.

Dejectedly, Christine headed back toward her room after the show. Ryan intercepted her. He was persistent she would give him that. Every night he offered to take her out, and every night she'd refused. Tonight was no different.

"How about a late supper Chris? Anywhere you want." Christine sighed, but looked at her other options. Go have dinner with Ryan, or go home. Alone. Even more alone than she had been 24 hours ago. Really, she didn't want to be alone tonight.

"Okay, sure Ryan." He led her out to his sleek red sports car.

Erik hid in his box. He did not wish to interact with anyone beyond the usher. Unable to watch her sing, he merely sat back, and listened. She sang poorly. Anger filled him. She could sing much better than this. It was appalling. He chanced a look at her. A certain glow was lacking tonight. The glow she got from performing in front of an audience. The glow of doing what she loved, and what made her happy.

Had he stolen it from her? Perhaps he'd overreacted. It was, after all, human nature to be curious. Watching her perform the finale with a false smile on her face was nearly painful. He did not stand when they'd finished…neither did anyone else, nor did he clap. He stood and slipped out of the box. A need to see her grew within him. He hoped she'd still want to see him.

Slipping into the shadows once more, he watched the patron approach her. Then much to his dismay, he watched her leave with him. Blinking back tears, he sank to the floor.

"I gave her everything. My music, her voice…my heart," he whispered to himself. "Now she's left with that…that…" He had no words. Finally he stood, and took his leave. Meg Giry watched as the man practically dragged himself out of the building…alone.

Once Christine and Ryan had arrived at the restaurant, Christine came to the conclusion that perhaps she did want to be alone, or at least, not with Ryan. His constant self-centered babbling started to wear on her nerves.

"I'm sorry, Ryan, I just don't think I'm suitable company for anyone tonight," she interrupted.

"What's the matter Chris?" Ryan took her hand in his.

"My performance was disgraceful. I'd just rather go home."

"You sang great, Chris. As usual." He gave her a warm smile.

"No, I was completely off on parts."

"Who cares about a few notes?" He shrugged.

"I do." _Erik does. _She pushed back from the table. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to go."

"I'll take you." He started to rise.

"No, its okay. It's just a block away. Finish your meal. Goodnight Ryan, thank you." Before he could say another word, she left. The brisk air made her walk faster. She could see the white of her car gleam. Someone grabbed her arm. A scream caught in her throat as she spun around.

"Meg, you scared me half to death."

"Sorry. What's wrong?"

"Uh…" Christine took a deep breath, "nothing."

"Where's Erik?" Christine's gaze faltered.

"I don't know." Meg's brows pulled together.

"Didn't he find you?"

"He didn't come tonight."

Meg shook her head. "Yes, he did. I saw him not too long ago."

"You couldn't have. It must have been someone else."

"It was him, Chris. Mask and all." Christine tensed at the word mask. "He was sitting on the floor. I thought he was waiting for you."

"When was that?"

"A little while after the curtain."

"I'm sure he's left by now."

"What happened?" Tears sat in the corners of Christine's eyes.

"Oh, Meg. I did something awful. He must hate me now."

"Well I very much doubt that. What did you do?"

Christine's eyes lowered. "His mask, I took it off. He asked me not to touch it."

"Christine," Meg hardly ever used her full name, "I'm sure he doesn't hate you. Obviously he was looking for you." Christine's head shook.

"You didn't see him. He was angry, upset."

"Well, I think he was allowed to be. He'll get over it. Give it time."

Christine opened her car door. "When did you say you saw him?"

"I'd just finished getting out of costume."

"Oh no." He'd probably seen her leave with Ryan. Why did that make her feel ill?

"What?" Not hearing her Christine got in her car, leaving Meg on the sidewalk.


	14. The hunt

"What am I doing?" Christine was driving around aimlessly. She had no idea why. She had no idea where he even lived. And even if she did, what would she do with that knowledge? Go and knock on his door, beg forgiveness, explain that the only reason she went with Ryan was because she missed him?

Damn right, if she could find the door to knock on. The road he's said was on his way home, could lead anywhere. He might not have been going home that day. She'd driven for a long time on this road, now she was lost. Looking for a big black SUV probably wasn't her brightest idea. He, like most people, probably lived in a high-rise apartment building. They had parking garages. Obviously she hadn't thought this through very well. With a resigned sigh, she looked for a turn to get her back home. Just as she thought she was getting back on track, the gas warning light blinked.

"Oh no." The gauge hovered just above the big red **E**. Would she ever learn?

Erik had waited for her. He didn't know why he tortured himself. He hadn't had a long wait. From afar he'd watched her speak with Giry, wipe tears from her eyes. When she pulled away from the curb, and Giry, he'd expected her to go home. Instead he found himself following her back to the school, and driving down the road her car had been abandoned on that first day.

That seemed like ages ago.

He trailed far enough behind that she couldn't really make out the shape or color of his car in the dark. He worried slightly that he might miss a turn she made, but she never strayed from the road.

Much later, she finally made a turn. A huge illegal U-turn, across a grass median strip. Once he'd passed her, he turned his lights off and followed suit. He saw her pull into a gas station, and zoomed right by it. When she pulled back onto the road, he followed her until he was confident she was actually heading home that time.

What had that little detour been all about?

She was a fool she knew that. Maybe the night's rest had done some good. A phone book. Driving around half the night, that simple fact had never occurred to her. She knew his name, and Grenier wasn't really a popular name.

Today was Saturday, and the final performance of her show. She would simply find his address and go to him. She sipped her tea as she flipped through the thick book. Two Grenier's. One E and one G. Christine grinned and sought out a pen and paper.

It seemed he didn't live in a high-rise apartment building like everyone else. The building that was at the address was a bakery. On the second level there was a pair of windows that could have been his apartment. She glanced at the clock in her car; it was a little past 8 in the morning. He could still be sleeping. She noticed the black SUV a few spots ahead of hers.

Just as she was about to cut the engine he walked out of a door on the side of the bakery. A huge brown dog followed behind him. Her jaw dropped at the sight of him. He wore a pair of faded, stained carpenter jeans, a t-shirt, boots, a thin jacket, and of course, the mask.

Jeans? T-shirts? Erik? She couldn't imagine him wearing anything but a suit and tie. Even to sleep in. But there he was, opening the driver's side door, letting the big dog jump all over his expensive leather seats. He had a notebook, which he tossed on his back seat, and he climbed in after the dog.

It seemed their roles reversed. Now she was following him. Thankful that she had actually gotten a full tank of gas, she drove behind him, out of the city limits. When he pulled into an empty grassy lot, where a group of men in orange t-shirts and sweatshirts seemed to be constructing a frame for a very large house, she hesitated. Christine pulled into a, what she hoped was hidden, spot beside some tall trees.

Erik handed the notebook over to a guy with an orange cap to finish out the outfit, he had a leather tool-belt slung around his hips. Erik spoke for a moment, pointing, and the orange guy nodded. Erik tore his jacket off, and threw it on the hood of his car. The dog was practically glued to his side. Erik scratched its ears, and produced a faded yellow tennis ball. The dog seemed content to play catch with itself while Erik got to work.

Erik's shirt was white, not orange, and plain. Obviously he didn't work for these people or surely his shirt would be stamped with the cute little icon as well. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to approach him. Before she could pull back out on to the road, the traitorous dog had come running her way, and was fiercely barking at her.

"Oh God." She didn't want to move the car, in fear of hitting the dog, but Erik would surely come look to see what his dog was barking about. Erik looked up and started to jog toward the secluded area. Christine searched frantically for something to throw so the dog would run after it. "Ah! Lifesaver!" Quickly she unwrapped the candy and tossed one pass the dog. A familiar long-fingered hand snatched it before it hit the ground. He eyed it for a moment, and murmured something to the dog. The barking ceased, and he walked toward her. Caught, with nowhere to go, she climbed out of her car.

"Lucy doesn't eat candy." His arms crossed over his chest. He studied her for a moment, and then his eyes dropped to the grass. "Is there something I can do for you Miss Daae?" He avoided her eyes at all costs. Because if he looked at hers, he just might break down.

"Erik, I would really like to speak with you…about…about yesterday."

"Well as it happens, Miss Daae, I'm quite busy at the moment…"

"Erik, aren't you ever going to look at me again?" He felt the tears in her voice. He gulped, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. "Please." His nostrils flared as he gave her an aggravated sigh.

When his eyes met hers, the pain and hurt in them nearly killed her. Her own eyes spilled over, and he quickly looked away. In an instant she was next to him. When she touched his arm, he flinched.

"Oh, Erik. I don't know why I did…what I did. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." He turned around quickly.

"You know why, Christine. Everyone wants to know what lies behind the mask. You're not the first. You won't be the last."

"Yes. I did want to know. I should have waited until you felt ready to show me." His head shook.

"I would have never been ready to 'show' you. The world should not have to look at my hideous face."

"You're not hideous Erik. You're beautiful."

He tore the mask from his own face then.

"Beautiful? Beautiful Christine? Is this what you call beautiful?" He turned, pointing to his ruined face. "Yes, have a look at beautiful Erik." He remarked dryly. She stopped his hand before he could replace the mask.

"You are Erik. Here." She covered his heart. "And here." She caressed his ruined cheek. He gave her a disbelieving look. She touched her lips to his, and then kissed the ruined side of his face, and the whole side. His breathing became shallow.

Christine took his face in her hands and kissed his lips.


	15. Pity

Just a little snippet of a chapter. I'll update more tomorrow. Very soon this fic will be moving in the M category. I can feel it. Thank all of you for all the lovely reviews. If not for the reviews, I probably wouldn't update as often. Here we go.

Erik fell into the kiss for a moment, but quickly stepped back.

"I don't need or want your pity Christine." His eyes narrowed at her. She did give him a disgusted sigh now.

"Pity? You think this is _pity,_ Erik?" Her hands came to rest at her hips.

"It must be...isn't it?"

"No, it's not."

"Well, what is it then?"

Her mouth opened, then closed, as if she wanted to speak, but thought better of it.

"Right." He replaced his mask. Head bowed, he started to walk away.

"Erik, it's not pity…I don't know what it is…but I know it's not pity. I wanted…want to kiss, and be with you. It has nothing to do with pity." She grabbed his arm. "Nothing's changed Erik. I still feel the same way I did two days ago. Well except for the fact that I feel really awful for doing that to you. Will you ever be able to forgive me?"

Erik looked hopeful for a moment.

"Nothing's changed?" Christine shook her head. Erik gently nodded. Yes, she was the woman to see behind the mask, and find the man inside. Heaving a relieved sigh, he gathered her in his arms. "Forgive you? Yes, you're forgiven. I overreacted. I apologize. I should not have yelled at you." He laid his head atop hers.

"Yes. I deserved that."

"No. Never." He kissed her then, briefly, just for a moment. "You left with that…that…."

"Ryan?" Erik curled his lip in disgust. Her heart swelled at his jealousy. "Only because I felt lonely. I missed you."

"Well had you waited a few more moments…"

"But I didn't imagine you'd be there." He brushed her hair behind her ears.

"I'll always be there, Christine."

"Ryan used to be like a brother to me."

"And now?" The man actually pouted.

"Not even that." She kissed the pout away.

"Good."

"You'll be there tonight then?" He nodded kissing behind her ear. "I should let you get back to work then."

"MmmHmmm." His lips traveled down her neck. He felt her fingers in his hair, and smiled against her neck. "Right. Back. To. Work." He added a small kiss to each word, and then removed himself from her. "I'll see you later." With one last chaste kiss, he called the dog, and set off back over to the construction site. As he watched her tear up his yard with her car, he knew he'd have to give up on one of his dreams. He'd have to put his resignation in on Monday. He could teach elsewhere, and he had enough saved to take the year off. He picked his tool-belt back up, tightening it around his hips. Teaching…it was just a dream. Christine…Christine was everything.


	16. The show must go on

You guys are great. I never expected to get such a response. Thanks to you all!

"I see the honeymoon's back on." Meg commented when she saw Christine. Christine merely grinned. "Obviously you found him. So, what are you gonna do? He can't be your teacher, _and_ your boyfriend, Chris."

Christine hadn't even thought of that. "Well I suppose I'll have to drop his class then."

"But don't you need that class?"

"Surely there's someone else who teaches it?" Meg merely shrugged. "I may have to transfer to a different school. It'll be difficult with us both in the Music program. He's bound to come up as my professor again."

"Transfer?" Meg gave her a sad look.

"Erik could lose his job."

"Yes, but…"

"Hurry along girls. Get into costume." One of the wardrobe ladies ushered them out of the hallway.

"We'll talk later Meg." Christine threw over her shoulder.

Erik was glad he'd thought to rent the box out for the duration of the show. People must have heard about the angel gracing the stage, because the box office was packed with people wanting to get in. Christine must have changed him. He even went as far as smiling at someone who was staring at him. She accepted him as he was, he could care less what others thought.

The usher led him to his box, with the little 5 etched in the door, although Erik himself probably knew the way better. He glanced over the edge of the balcony. The people seated below were noisy. A baby wailed, and Erik rolled his eyes. This certainly wasn't the place for misbehaved children. The managers and patron sat across from him again.

The patron, Ryan, looked bored out of his mind. Ever so subtly, he slipped an earpiece in his ear. Erik glared at him, though he suspected the effect was lost all the way on the other side of the theater.

Things were starting to quiet down. Showtime must've been approaching. When he heard the orchestra start, he crept to the front of the box again, preparing for her arrival on stage. Her glow was back, that's for sure. She looked radiant. He felt her eyes focus on him for a moment as she sang.

Erik could barely find fault with the whole of the show. Steps were on, notes were on. Not a single person stayed seated when they had finished. The managers jumped up excitedly. Perhaps they did know a little something about the theater business. The patron was slower to rise, and applauded half-heartedly. The little dollar signs must have lit his eyes up when he saw the audience's reaction. He clapped a bit more enthusiastically.

Before the applause had even died out, Erik was on the move. Christine was just outside her dressing room when he finally fought his way through the jumble of people backstage.

"Christine." He growled. (Just like Gerik. Yum.) She turned, a smile still lighting her face.

"Erik."

"Bravo. You were amazing. All the hot shots from Broadway will be wanting you soon."

"Oh, Er-" Before she could finish his name, his lips were on hers. His tongue plundered her mouth, his big hands cradling her delicate face.

"Oh, get a room." Meg Giry swept past them. "Great job Chris." She tsked and shook her head. "Eh, just look at him." She glanced briefly up at Erik, who had little lipstick smudges on his lips and part of his mask.

Erik frowned at Meg, as Christine chuckled and rubbed the lipstick off.

Still shaking her head, Meg waved. "Goodnight kids."

"Let me get out of this." His gaze heated as he nodded. He followed her until she closed the door in his face. Waiting outside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. The patron walked toward the door, and Erik gave him another good glare. Ryan swept his eyes over the strange masked man with distaste, and kept walking.

Christine learned with Erik's tastes jeans and sweaters simply wouldn't do. Dresses and skirts had become her after show attire. Removing the stage make-up, she reapplied some of her own. She let her hair down.

Once they were in his SUV she noticed they weren't heading to one of his favorite restaurants but toward his apartment.

"Where are we going?" A ball of heat formed in her stomach.

"Surprise." His lips curled into a smile. He pulled into the spot he'd been parked in earlier. Before she knew it he was there, helping her out from the vehicle. He took her hand as they crossed the street. As usual, Lucy was waiting at the door. Erik ran his fingers over her head a few times, and then dismissed her with a simple command. Erik hung her jacket on the back of his closet door and led her to the little dining area. "Have a seat." His voice was a low whisper that sent little tremors over her skin.

"Thank you." She accepted the flute of champagne he offered her.

"I hope you like Italian." He called over the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area. A salad was placed in front of her. He lit a slender candle.

"Did you cook for me?" She gave him a smile.

"No, but I did order take out for you." His grin was infectious.

They ate. They drank. They were merry. She took the opportunity to glance around his apartment while he was getting the entrée out of the oven. His walls had some art on them, and little else. No pictures. That reminded her that she knew very little about this man, expect for the whole musical genius thing.

"Do your parents live in New York Erik?"

He looked up from his meal and shook his head.

"No, I was orphaned at a very young age. Three." He took a bite of food.

"I'm sorry." He merely shrugged. "How did they die?"

"I was told in a fire. I guess someone saved me. Then I moved into an orphanage for the following 15 years. No one wants a disfigured kid." His mouth was grim. Christine took his hand.

"Where were you from?"

"Quebec. I moved to America when I was 18." They talked about his life in America while they ate. Then hers.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly eat another thing." She said when he brought out dessert.

"Come on, just a bit." He offered her a bit of his. She did take that, but that was it. She watched him finish his. They cleared his table.

Dishes forgotten, his armed snaked around her waist. He wasted no time before kissing her. His arousal was evident against her stomach. Gently he ran his hand down her side, tugging her closer. She pressed against him. Groaning, he lifted her until her legs locked around him. Unconsciously, he made his way toward his bedroom. He could take this torture no longer. She would be his. All of her.

As he set her gently on his big bed, he broke their heated kiss, and ran his fingers over her features. She pulled at him, and he knelt over her. He kissed her jawline, brushing her hair back. His teeth nibbled on her earlobe. His breath brushed against her ear as he whispered, "Christine, I love you."


	17. How long should we two wait?

A/N: Please to not beat me, or throw blunt, heavy objects at me, and such. I apologize a million times for the delay. Once again, I thank you all for the reviews. You're the best. I love you. Here we go. Hope you like.

Her heart skipped a beat then, and she ran her fingers through his hair. "Oh, Erik." This kiss was slow and sweet. The knot in his tie gave her a bit of a struggle, but eventually she got it loose. It flew out of her fingers after she'd pulled it off. His neck was warm against her lips. His pulse was strong. As she undid the first few buttons on his shirt, her lips followed. When she finished with the buttons, she pushed the white shirt over his shoulders.

"One moment, mon amour." Erik stood, removing his warmth from her. He lit a few tall, thick candles, giving some light to the room. Christine scooted back against the pillows, anxious for his return. Some faded scars marred his back and right side. His back was an impressive sight. Wide shoulders, his arms and back were thick with muscle. When he turned back on her, her mouth went dry. His chest outdid his back. No scars touched this area. The perfect amount of hair dusted his upper body. A neat little 'happy trail' completed it.

"Wow." She exhaled on a whoosh of breath. His beautiful eyes burned with desire. For her. She welcomed him with open arms when he returned to the bed. With another heated kiss, he climbed back over her. Long fingers feathered against her thigh, and pushed the hem of her dress up. Her hands slid over the wide expanse of his back. The kiss was broken when he pulled the dress up over her head.

When he got a look at the beautiful porcelain skin of her body, he couldn't get rid of her under things fast enough. At once, his hands were all over her.

"You are easily the most beautiful creature on earth." His lips took a journey down her neck, over her collarbone, to the swell of her breasts. When he took a nipple between his lips, a low moan of his name escaped her lips. She felt his calloused fingers creeping up her inner thigh. Her breathing was far from steady. Pleasure exploded through her when his finger slid inside her. Soon after, her body reacted, pressing wantonly against his hand. His caresses brought her quickly to her first orgasm.

The arousal straining against his trousers, begged to be free, but he smoothed her hair back, and planted soft kisses against her throat. Once she composed herself, she started exploring his chest with her hands. One finger followed the hairline that disappeared into the waist of his trousers. His breath quickened. He sat back on the heels of his feet while she slowly, torturously so, unbuttoned. The unzipping seemed to take hours. When finally he was free of the constraining pants, he still had the problem of the boxers underneath to worry about. Groaning, he rolled to the side wanting no more barriers between them, and rid himself of his remaining clothes. Christine jumped slightly when she felt him hard against her leg.

"Beautiful Christine." With a small maneuver his hips pressed against hers.

"Erik," she gasped. "I've never…" she trailed off. Oh, but he had. Some women had been morbidly fascinated with the mask, that is, until it came off. It was hard to stay aroused when you were being pushed away by a girl with pure disgust on her face. He wanted her badly, more so than he'd ever wanted anything before, but he only wanted her happy. Raising himself up, he looked into her eyes. She wanted him too, he could see it.

"Would you like me to stop?" He might be able to manage.

He was so tense, and she wanted nothing more than to feel him join with her. She was frightened at some of the stories she'd heard, but Erik wouldn't hurt her, that she knew. She shook her head.

"No, I don't want you to stop." Music to his ears. Relief passed over his face as he nudged her thighs apart. The instrument poking against her seemed unbelievably large and she couldn't imagine how it could possibly fit…in…there. Just as he started opening her, she stopped him.

"Wait." His shoulders sagged. She pried the mask from his face, and he tensed, waiting to be pushed away. Christine pressed a kiss to his ruined cheek. "Much better." His mouth dropped slightly and he let out a shaky breath. He intertwined their fingers, pressed his forehead to hers, and slid home.

Her fingers tightened around his, and he pressed his lips to hers. Pain soon turned to pleasure as she stretched around him. He filled her, made her whole. His breath was warm as he murmured words of love into her ear. Their souls connected, her pleasure fed his, visa versa, and soon she felt herself contracting again, around him. A guttural sound escaped him as he growled, "You're mine." Unable to speak, she merely nodded in agreement. "You belong to me."

"Yes," she moaned out. "Yes, Erik." With a final groan, he buried himself inside her, and poured his life, his love, and his seed inside her.


	18. You are not alone

A/N: Just a small little something because I was evil enough to keep you all waiting. More later probably. Thanks for reviewing. Oh yes, I do believe I stole some lyrics. You'll see 'em.

When Christine awoke, dawn was just breaking. Erik lay next to her snoring softly. He was on his back, with his head turned slightly, only giving her the perfect side of his face. Long fingers loosely encircled her wrist. His longish hair had fallen over his eyes, and the day's growth of stubble beckoned her. She righted his hair, and then indulged herself, running her hand over his jaw. He didn't stir, but for the faint smile that crossed his face. She ran a finger over his chin, across the slight cleft there.

The chill in the bedroom made her shiver. At some point she had climbed under the thick comforter, but was still cold. Erik lay naked atop the covers. His skin was warm to her touch, but she gently tugged the comforter over him as well. As she moved closer to him, she slid her arm across his hard stomach, and rested her head against his shoulder.

It was so nice not to be alone anymore. She had someone to hug, to kiss, to laugh and cry with again. Sending thanks to whatever god had sent him to her, she settled against him. The scent of Erik filled her nostrils as she drifted back into blissful sleep.

Erik awoke with a weight around him. Generally Lucy didn't manage to get her paws around him, so…. Soft, chocolate curls met his opening eyes. His heart swelled so he thought it might just, in fact, explode inside him. Somehow he'd ended up with his arm tightly bound around her waist, and she was mostly lying on top of him with _her _arm around _his_ waist.

He could easily die happy right now. Every stare, every hurtful word, every wrongdoing, didn't seem to matter anymore. He had the most precious gift he could have ever asked for, right here, with him, beside him. He could never let her go, refused to. He would be her first, last, and only. That he would see to.

Having no experience with this 'morning after' business, he didn't really know what to say when he felt her stirring. He grabbed the hand that was curved around his side and kissed her fingers. Her eyes fluttered open as a smile formed on her face. A proper kiss seemed in order, and he leaned in for one.

"So this wasn't just a really, _really,_ good dream then?" She stretched and yawned next to him. His loving gaze met hers.

"A dream come true, more like, I'd say." His hand curved around her neck, and his thumb caressed her cheek.

"Seems like an apt description." When her fingers danced across his belly, he stiffened instantly. Ignoring his active appendage, he gave her soft, teasing kisses. That is, until she found him hard and aching. Groaning against her mouth, he nearly went off just at her touch.

Not having a chance to really explore him the night before, this seemed like the perfect opportunity. He was hard, yet soft, and quite a handful. (Insert winky smiley face) Her hand ran over the length of him, and then over the two soft globes, which hung below. His body shook with need, yet she continued her sweet torture. When she spread out the bead of moisture that formed at the very tip of him, he was quite sure he might cry out in desperation. He turned and lifted her over him.

Her thighs straddled his stomach. When she hovered above him, all he could think of was impaling her unto him, and the bedclothes bunched in his hands. As she finally pushed against him, it took every ounce of energy and strength not to instantly lose himself in that warm snug heaven.

Christine let out a deep shaky breath when he filled her. Unused to this new sensation, she let out a few more deep breathes. Erik fought the urge to grab her hips, and soon enough, she was moving against. His hips, of their own accord, jumped against hers, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her. A few more of those moves, and she was moving wildly against him and he spilled his love into her again.


	19. Don Juan Triumphant

A/N: It's short. I'm sorry. Thanks for reviewing. Muah!

It seemed a shower was in order. Erik persuaded her to conserve water, and share one with him. She was more than willing to oblige. After he'd made her something for breakfast…er…brunch, he casually mentioned resigning on Monday.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not allowed to be your teacher and have a…a relationship with you of this sort." His hand flapped about, uselessly.

"You don't have to resign, I'll just drop your class. By the way, are you the only one who teaches that class?" Not having her there every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday would be hard.

"No, I think there is another. Perhaps it will just be simpler if I resign."

"No! I don't want our school to lose you. Everything will be fine."

"But-"

"Tomorrow I'll take care of it. You can still teach, and I'll just avoid taking your classes."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, don't be silly." Silly? No one had ever called him silly.

That had been the end of the discussion; she was unmovable on the subject.

She'd found some of his sketchbooks. The talents of this man seemed to be never-ending. He answered all of her questions about the house he had designed for himself.

Next she came across the sketches of scenery and such of his beloved Don Juan. He explained the story to her, and then brought out some of the numbers corresponding to the scenes depicted in the book.

"Are you going to get it published?" Christine asked when he had said it was finished.

"Well, I hadn't really thought on that. I think I wrote it more to get it out of my system, than for any other purpose."

"Play some of it for me."

"Only if you'll sing Aminta." She grinned and nodded.

It was quite possible that she'd never heard anything so emotional. The music didn't even need words.

Finally she got to sing the whole of The Point of No Return. This man truly was a genius. She sat next to him on the piano bench, while he explained the scene, pointing at the sketch with the burning fire and towers. He seemed to speak excitedly about the show. She could tell he was proud of his opera, and it would be such a waste to let his talent go unknown.

"Publish it. People would be fighting over it." Erik eyed the music in front of him skeptically. Then shook his head.

"I don't think so."

"Well, you could try. You haven't got anything to lose." He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Perhaps you're right."

"Maybe one day I really will get to sing Aminta then." As if he would let anyone else sing it.

Meanwhile, across town, the cast party was underway.

Ryan was fuming. How could she not come? She was, after all, the damn star. He'd had plans to warn her against that dangerous looking masked man.

That was another sore point. To think that she, this beautiful young woman, would rather spend time in the presence of this masked…freak…was unbelievable. He'd offered to take her out every day, and she refused. It was quite a blow to the ego. Ryan had seen her leave with the weirdo in the mask.

He was baffled.

He wanted her, and he always got what he wanted. And he would have her.

Meg Giry was flitting around, always the social butterfly. Ryan approached her.

"Ms. Giry?"

"Ah, yes, hello Mr. Chagny."

"Where is your friend Ms. Daae tonight?"

"Oh, well, I don't really know. There was no answer at her house. I can't believe she didn't come." Ryan felt his hands clench. What had that mad man done with her?

"Meg…do you know this man, he wears a mask…?" Ryan asked solemnly.

"Oh, you mean Erik?" His eyes narrowed into slits.

"Yes. I saw them leave together. I'm quite certain he's done something with her. Kidnapped her. She would've been here."

"Erik? No. He's harmless. He teaches at the university."

"Ah. Well, that doesn't really make my worries go away."

"Well I saw them before they left. Everything looked fine. I'm sure she went willingly. They've become rather close."

"Yes, I see. Well, I'm sure everything is fine then." Ryan flashed Meg a bright smile.

Obviously, the man, Erik, would have to be destroyed if he thought he would stand between Ryan having her.

A/N: I have done a bit of research on this. When dealing with student-teacher relationship, the party with the 'power' over the other, namely Erik, should be removed from this 'power'. Also...did you really think a happy ending would come so easily?


	20. Paper faces on parade

A/N: Forgive me for the delay. Writer's blockage set in. Thanks again for all reviews. Enjoy.

Christine had already taken herself out of Erik's class by the time Ryan called with an anonymous call concerning teachers affiliating with their students. The school assured him that they had no concerns with any of their professors. When he implied, 'some guy named Erik, that wears a mask' and one of his female students had been seen together, all the response he got was, "We'll look into that, sir."

Ryan slammed the phone down, infuriated with the outcome of his little phone call. Apparently that angle wasn't going to work. He would have to come up with something else. Soon. He was not happy.

Erik couldn't remember a time when he was this happy. He was quite certain it was never.

The past couple of weeks had been heaven. It was a bit depressing not having Christine in class every morning, but that sort of faded when she was waking up next to him instead. She would stop in and see him in the middle of the day, when neither of them had classes; sometimes they would get lunch. He'd even eaten lunch with Giry. After class had finished for the day, she would still come for her singing lesson.

They usually parted ways after that. Rehearsal had started for the next show her group would be performing. More often than not he would end up following her there anyways, and sit in his usual box.

He'd gotten his opera together, and was working with a publisher. Erik had never believed his life would be going so well. With the winter months approaching, the progress on his house was slowing, but he didn't really mind. His weekend would be well spent with Christine.

An odd cryptic letter was in his mailbox at the college that morning. It didn't make much sense, but he thought it was something about taking something away from someone. He read it a few times as he walked down a corridor, shrugged, and then shoved the paper into his bag.

It wasn't until after they had eaten supper that evening that he remembered the letter. Erik pulled her into his lap, and asked her what she thought about it. She didn't seem too concerned with it, just leaned in for a kiss. Tossing the note aside, held her tight against him. When he took her on the couch that night, all thoughts of that note, of the day, of everything vanished from his mind. There was only her.

"A costume party?" Erik's brows furrowed. "Here? At the school?"

"Uh huh. This weekend!" It was Wednesday.

"Well, I don't-"

"Please?" He gave in, sighing.

"Yes, okay. Of course. Your wish is my command, and all that." He chuckled.

Christine nearly squeezed the breath out of him, and then started blathering on about costumes and such. He really had no idea what he'd gotten himself into.

After arguing with Christine over which fairytale characters would look absolutely ridiculous with a mask, Erik persuaded her into letting him choose his own costume. She was reluctant, but finally agreed.

The day before the party, Christine got a note. Basically the same nonsense Erik had gotten. Warning her against suspicious weirdoes. She crumbled it up and tossed it. It didn't seem necessary to show it to Erik.

She had chosen an angel costume, after Erik's input. The dress was the lightest color of rose, lace and silk, complete with matching lace halo and lace and wire wings. . She still had no idea what Erik was wearing. Tomorrow night, she supposed, she would find out.

Erik had chosen Red Death. Sort of like an opposite to Christine's angel. The red velvet jacket and trousers clung tightly to his body. A skull-handled rapier was slung across his hips. A flowing red velvet cape trailed behind him. The mask had detailed designs of a skull, and he work black face paint around his eyes. He wore knee-high leather boots on his feet.

Christine was waiting for him in his living room. How embarrassing. It had taken him far longer to dress than her. With a final glance in the mirror, he headed out of the bathroom, his cape swirling after him.

She sat on the edge of his couch looking through another of his sketchbooks. With her hair up, and decorated with shimmering jewels and her halo, she truly did look like an angel. Her sleeves were off the shoulder. Moving quietly he snuck up behind her and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. She started, and then turned. Her eyes widened at the new mask.

"Wow." Her hand brushed over the velvet of his arm. Her fingers trailed over the silver skull sword, pulling it from it's casing. It looked real. His hard body filled out the costume perfectly. After Erik had properly praised every inch of her, they left.

A huge hotel was holding the party. The Erik pulled into the lot and parked the big car. Friends of Christine, colleagues of Erik, greeted them and of course, Meg Giry, who was dressed as some sort of fairy.

"Wow is that velvet?" Giry fingered a bit of fabric near his wrist.

After a few moments, Giry flitted away, off to talk to others. There was a food buffet set up against one wall, tables scattered everywhere, and a huge dance floor. They danced. A lot. Erik also got the chance to dance with Meg, Meg's mother, a fellow music teacher, and a few of Christine's other friends. Being Halloween and all, a mask fit in, so he felt much more at ease than he normally would have. Seeing Christine dance with other men didn't make him furious with jealousy, as it once probably would have, because she always came back to him. The night was wonderful.

All too soon, for everyone, the party came to an end. It was well after midnight when Erik and Christine finally got back into his car. After driving for a few minutes, Erik braked for a turn, but the car kept moving.

"What the hell!" He slammed his foot down, but they didn't even slow.


	21. Consume us

A/N: Sorry for the long wait again!

Erik thought himself a logical man. A logical man would know that no matter how much pressure they put on a brake, it wouldn't work if the brake was malfunctioning. Alas, in the midst of danger, Erik continued to try and slow the car. The tires squealed as he took the sharp turn, wide and at full speed. Christine grabbed for the O.S. bar, keeping herself as steady in the seat as possible.

He drove around a parking lot until he coasted to a stop, then threw the emergency brake on, and slid the car into park.

"Are you okay?" Erik cradled her cheek in his big hand. She nodded, her mouth agape. Trying to recall a number for a 24-hour towing company, Erik stepped out of the SUV, popping the hood. A moment later he was reaching across Christine, rifling through his glove box. He flicked it on, checking the batteries, and continued his conversation with Ricky, the tow truck man.

With a loud thud the lid slammed down, and Erik had his fingers pressed against his forehead, with his phone still at his ear. He shook his head, and walked back to the driver's side door.

"They'll be here in 10 minutes." Erik said calmly. Grease or oil, or something, she wasn't sure what, was on his hands, and a bit on his new mask.

"What's the matter?" She asked turning toward him.

"It seems the brake lines were cut, at least to my eye. They may have just worn down or something." Although the vehicle was practically brand new.

"Cut? As in intentionally cut?" She paled.

"It looks that way to me. But cars aren't my expertise. Could be neglect on my part. We'll know more when a mechanic looks at it."

"Who would do something like that?" Erik thought back to that cryptic letter, but shook his head. That must have been a prank. But this…he truly was baffled.

"I have no idea. What truly amazes me is that the release for the hood is inside. They couldn't have gotten to it without opening the doors first." The thought of the person who may have killed them, sitting where he was, made his skin crawl.

A half hour later, Ricky passed the same judgment as Erik. The problem with the brakes was not wear and tear on the car. That confirmation made Erik sick. He was sure he didn't really know anyone that hated him enough to kill him. Or harm him.

A new thought chilled him. Maybe they were trying to kill Christine. But who could hate her. He pushed that thought aside. It must be him they're after. Perhaps he should question Christine about any former homicidal boyfriends.

Ricky suggested filing a police report. Erik would, of course, as his nearly perfect life could have been ended prematurely, but, being that neither he nor Christine had been killed, or even injured, only shaken-up, he doubted the police would even look at his problem.

When they finally got back to Erik's apartment, they made love with the urgency that comes with a near-death experience. Erik held Christine protectively that night, covering her body with his. He knew now he would be forever watching his back, and Christine's for that matter. No one was going to ruin what they'd made together. No one.

The cold of winter finally came. Erik was grateful that his crew had gotten the structure of the house built before snow started falling. Electricians and plumbers had replaced carpenters and construction teams. Everything was going smoothly. It had been nearly a month since the Halloween incident, and Erik was beginning to relax again. Christine usually had long days of practice on the weekend, so he could go check the progress on his home.

Stairs had been constructed, and he could see the basic structure of all the rooms. It was beginning to take the shape of a house. He ventured up the stairs to the area he'd designed for a music room. Once he had a little money set aside again, he would buy a new piano. Maybe he could persuade the school into giving him that organ for a good price. Most of the staff probably didn't even know it was there anyways.

In every room he envisioned, he also envisioned Christine there with him. In the kitchen at a breakfast nook, in the living room on the sofa, in the bedroom lying next to him, or in the music room at the piano bench with him. The small velvet box hung heavily in his jacket pocket.

Nerves fluttered in his stomach when he even thought about asking her to marry him. It had only been a little over three months since they met. He wanted the house to be finished before he asked. Once he settled on a price for his masterpiece with the man who actually did want to buy it. Any excuse he could make for not having enough courage to ask her. He feared rejection. He wanted everything to be perfect.

His fingers closed around the box just as flames jumped out from the wall. He looked at them in astonishment. A horrible scream had him running down the stairs. The electrician lay convulsing on the floor as flames licked at the frame of his house.

Erik acted instinctively, pulling the man outside of the burning house. Soon chunks of charred wood started falling from the roof as the fire hungrily devoured the wood. Panting, Erik watched what little of his house there was, burn to the ground


	22. Come away with me

A/N: Well I really have no idea what the hell happened to the font and such. Thanks for reviews, and sorry for all delays.

Had Ryan known that every accident he caused would lead Erik and Christine into each other's arms he may have taken a different approach. He watched Erik's former house through a pair of binoculars. The man himself had escaped. Damn, did this guy have all the luck in the world? All rights should have killed this freak killed in a car accident.

Ryan could admit that the brakes had possibly been a bad idea. After all, Christine had been in the car. Something could have happened to her. Then all of this would be for nothing. He'd have to be much more careful about that. The unharmed masked man got back into his huge SUV (Sport Utility Vehicle :D) and dialed a phone. Once a fire team arrived, and the fire was well contained, Erik drove away.

Following this Erik person back to the theater, he contemplated his next move. Obviously he wasn't getting through. The man in the mask fell into the arms of the woman who should rightfully be his. Rage filled him as he glared at the two of them.

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"Chris?" Christine turned to see Ryan standing a few feet away. He smiled warmly at her.

"Oh, hello Ryan." Planting his most charming smile on his face he walked up next to her.

"Are you free for supper tonight? We really should catch up. I want to talk to you." He dimpled at her.

Christine fought the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"Actually I already have plans this evening…" Ryan's smile faltered and his eyes narrowed. The masked man no doubt.

"C'mon Chris. I want to get to know you better." He leaned against the wall in front of her. "Do you remember, how our parents always used to say how we'd be married one day? I think they were right." His head descended down toward hers. She quickly stepped out of the way.

"Ryan, that was a long time ago." Her chuckle was soft. "I'm already in a very happy relationship, Ryan."

"I know. With that man in the mask. Chris, I think you should stay away from him. He gives me the creeps. I mean what kind of weirdo wears a ma-" Her hand stung as it met solidly with his cheek. With her chin raised she started to walk by him. Ryan's hand shot out, his fingers closing tightly around her wrist.

"I'm a very wealthy man Chris. I could give you everything you ever wanted."

"Mr. Changy, you have nothing that I want."

This took him aback. Does she know who he is?

"Have you forgotten Miss Daae, that I own and run this theater?"

"No, I haven't. Who do I fill out a sexual harassment statement with?"

"How dare you. Obviously you don't wish to remain employed here."

"Yes, you're right. So long as you're in charge, no, I don't."

Furious, Ryan was ready to tell her to leave. Instead he dropped her wrist.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm so sorry. I'm just…worried about you. I really think you should stop seeing that madman at once. I truly fear for your safety. You should come away with me. I'll keep you safe." He took her arm again, more gently this time.

"Ryan, let go of me." She yanked unsuccessfully. Ryan pulled her toward the exit.

"No. He's got you brainwashed or something. You wouldn't really want him over me. He's messed with your head." He tugged on her more.

"Stop it Ryan." Christine was becoming frightened. She pulled harder.

"Christine I'm only doing what's best for you." Before he could finish the sentence a large hand was holding him against the wall by his neck.

"Unhand her." Ryan tried to wheeze something out as the big man crushed his windpipe. "**NOW!**" Ryan's fingers dropped Christine's wrist. "Don't ever touch her again." Erik dropped the smaller man and reached for Christine. She moved into Erik's embrace while Ryan attempted to stand.

Attacking the man crossed his mind, but he was at a disadvantage. This other man had at least four inches on him, and thirty pounds. Desperately trying to catch his breath Ryan leaned into the wall. He watched Erik comfort Christine and felt jealously growing fiercely. He should be the one holding her, keeping her safe from the wild masked man. The man, he thought, who had just nearly killed him. The man who was now leading Christine away from him. He glared at their backs rubbing the tender flesh of his neck. This meant war.

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His masterpiece was sold. The deal had been made that morning and he insisted that he should bring his own Aminta. She would of course still have to audition and all that but he knew that she was perfect for the role. And they would see it too. She would be lighting up Broadway, just as he'd predicted.

Insurance had covered the losses on his house, but he wouldn't be able to start rebuilding until it was warmer. Faulty wires was the cause the firemen had given him and his insurance company. It seemed plausible. He'd hired professionals, but these things do happen. No one was harmed, and the electrician was fine, so it was only an annoying setback.

Champagne seemed in order. It would have plenty of time to chill as Christine was off somewhere shopping with Giry. He may never see her again. A chuckle escaped him as he jogged across the street. With only a week left in the semester, Christmas was approaching quickly. Holidays weren't something he usually cared about. That all changed when you actually had someone to share them with. Thanksgiving at the Giry's had been only slightly awkward. Far better than spending the day alone he supposed.

When he collapsed on his couch, Lucy jumped up next to him. He tugged the small velvet box from his pocket, and flicked the lid open. The modest diamond twinkled at him. He doubted she'd want anything large and gaudy. On either side of the larger diamond sat a smaller diamond. This was all set in platinum. His thumb brushed over the stones.

"Think she'll like it?" Lucy had no answer for him, only a head tilt. "Right, well…I think tonight's the night." The box snapped shut and he replaced it in his pocket. "Let's make something fabulous for our lovely lady then, shall we?"

The champagne chilled while Erik fumbled about the kitchen. The dog wasn't much help, but he managed.

While he was shaving, he glanced in the mirror. His hair was far too long. The twisted face stared back at him. How could she bear to look at him? He could hardly bear to look at himself. The nerves that he'd kept at bay for most of the day swamped him. Feeling sick, he quickly finished shaving and replaced his mask. He pushed the nerves away, shaking his head.

After a quick run down the street to a flower shop, he was ready for her. Back on the couch, his fingers tapped against his legs.

What if she said no? It would kill him. He would die as soon as the words left her lips that he was sure of.

She loved him, he was sure of that. No, she hadn't said the words, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words. She _acted_ as if she loved him. He smiled and took a deep breath.

Now where the hell was she?


	23. A pretty wonderful girl

A/N: Sorry for delay again. It just seems to be taking longer to write the chapters. Read on!

As it happened, Christine had just pulled in across the street. Erik was frantic when he found her cell phone still in his kitchen. He didn't know Giry's number. Fear ran cold through him. No, he shouldn't have left her go with just Giry. Grabbing his jacket, he tore down his hallway. He bounced down the stairs, two at a time, and ran out into the brisk air.

Relief flooded him when he saw her pulling packages out from her backseat. He met her at her car pulling her directly into his arms. Dropping a few of her bags, she hugged him back. His face was a bit flushed and he was clinging to her.

"Hey! What's the matter?" Christine asked Erik as he picked her bags up from the street. He took her hand as the crossed the street.

"Nothing. I was merely worried. You forgot to take your phone."

"I know. I noticed after the first fifteen stores." She wrinkled her nose. He chuckled and followed her up the steps. Lucy greeted them, pushing her head under Christine's hand. Erik set the bags down near the door and took her jacket. Christine finally noticed the table set, and glanced back at Erik questioningly.

He cleared his throat. "I've some news." A smile flitted at the corners of his lips as he pulled her chair out. "Champagne?" He filled her glass without waiting for an answer, and then his own.

Her eyes widened. "What news?"

"Don Juan…"

"You mean…you settled on it?" Her mouth was slightly agape. He nodded and flashed her a grin. She nearly toppled the table in her attempt to embrace him. The breath was knocked out of him when she landed on his lap; obviously she was trying to crush him with her hug. "Congratulations." She whispered into his ear.

Giving in, he gave her the kiss he'd been dying to give her since he saw her. Once she'd been properly kissed, he replaced her in her seat.

"There's more." He added when they started eating.

Her eyes met his. "More?"

"Well, I hope this would be something you'd want. I know it's something I want." He let out a shaky breath and took her hand. Her eyes clouded with a strange emotion, and she squeezed his hand. His lips caressed her knuckles for a moment, and then he spoke. "I've informed them that I have the perfect Aminta already, that is, if you'll agree to it." Erik smiled at her, and her eyelashes fluttered a few times. Her brow furrowed as her eyes went down to her hand.

Christine gave a small, soft, disappointed sigh, and then beamed at him. "Of course. I'd love to." Long slender fingers intertwined with hers. Each finger got a kiss. He gazed lovingly at her.

"Thank you." She leaned across the table, and slid her hand over his cheek. His hand covered hers. He filled her palm with kisses.

After their meal he presented her with the flowers. Its usual black silk ribbon held the bunch together. Christine looked up from the roses to thank him, but he'd lost a bit of his color, and he was swallowing hard. He seemed short on breath. Her fingers trailed over the smooth silk. His eyes seemed to watch her fingers and he leaned closer. As her fingers encountered something that was not at all silk, Erik's eyes widened.

There nestled in the knot of the bow was a 'sparkling diamond' ring. Christine blinked rapidly a few times while Erik took the bunch, and unknotted the silk.

The ring almost seemed dwarfed when held between his thumb and forefinger. Tossing the flowers on a nearby table, Erik brushed her hair behind her ear. All words that had previously drifted into his mind, evaporated.

"Christine," he purred. "I know we've only known each other a short time, but…I knew the moment I saw you…I...you make me whole." He shook his head to clear, so perhaps he wouldn't make a complete ass of himself. He slid down on his knee. "I can't imagine not waking up next to you for the rest of my days. I need you. I love you. You are my life. My angel." He took her hand, and slid the ring on. "Say you'll share your life with me."

Her face registered surprise.

Terrified, Erik knelt on the floor, waiting. Her small hand was still encased in his large one. She looked uncertain for a moment. His heart felt like it was being crushed. His head bowed.

A moment later her fingers lifted his chin. Tears flooded her eyes as she nodded. She pulled him up for a kiss. The mask was gently pried from his face as her lips covered his marred side.

"Say it again." She cradled his face in her hands.

"Marry me Christine?"

Her forehead touched his. "Yes. Oh yes Erik." She kissed him then and he pulled her into his arms. Gently he lifted her from the couch. Her lips never left his as her fingers worked quickly on unbuttoning his shirt. Laying her delicately on his bed, he moved over her. Their kiss was broken when he buried his face against her neck.

"You love me for me, despite my face." He'd stated it, but still sought reassurance. Her hand lay against his heart; she could feel it beating wildly.

"No Erik. I love _everything_ about you. I love your heart; your mind," her fingers brushed his temple, "Your soul. I love you not despite your face but **because** of it too. I love every inch of you, face included. You're the most beautiful man I've ever met. All of you." She planted soft kisses on his ruined side as if to prove her point. He couldn't feel them, but still he felt the tears well up in his eyes.

Emotion clogged his throat. He had undressed them both before he could speak again.

"Thank you for making me the happiest man alive." His voice was still thick with emotion.

"No, thank _you_. I love you Erik." His hand caressed her cheek.

"Oh Christine. I love you more than life itself. I would die for you, gladly, kill for you…anything you asked of me, I would do."

"Erik?"

"My dear?" He purred against her ear.

"Love me." She tugged him closer. A smile crossed his face.

"As you wish." Fingers and lips explored every inch of her. No patch of skin was left untouched. When he kissed her chin she was shaking with needing him.

"Erik, please." Her shaky voice pleaded. Kissing her sweetly, he gently slid inside her. At him filling her, she still gasped, but into his mouth. He did love her, slowly, gently, and so sweetly that it brought tears to her eyes. As if he could sense her approaching climax, he quickened his pace, eliciting a moan from her lips. Her reaction was instantaneous. He buried himself inside her contracting body, and could feel the exact moment their souls merged, joined. Her legs tightened around him as he filled her even more, spilling himself deep inside her.

Both breathing heavily, he rolled to the side, taking her with him. She was crushed against him in a tight embrace. Erik knew he could die happy right now. He was loved! What a wonderful feeling it was. He would never be alone again. Without her, he simply couldn't live.


	24. Deck the halls

A/N: Readers...do not shun me! There WILL be more tomorrow. I promise. Sadly, this story is coming to an end shortly. It's well past half over. I think. I guess we'll see. Thanks for reviews. Read!

Needless to say, Christine was cast as Aminta. Once her former theater group had run their show she told them she would not be returning for the next season. Richard huffed and puffed about losing their lead. Andre seemed genuinely upset about her leaving. Meg was devastated. Not only would Christine no longer see Meg at rehearsal but rehearsal at this new theater was early in the day. She had to rearrange her school schedule and take night classes.

This also meant that Erik had to do some rearranging. He worked with the staff, bunching his classes either in the earlier part of morning, or late afternoon. Erik would be there for every step of his masterpiece. The managers of this new theater had already gotten Erik's sketches of set designs and costumes. Production for the show would begin after the New Year.

The semester had ended, and Christmas was quickly approaching. Erik was clueless as to what to get Christine. He supposed he'd have to venture forth to the dreaded stores. They'd be packed solid with Christmas shoppers. Since she was out somewhere with Giry, he guessed there was no time like the present.

There were no spots in the parking lot. Erik groaned and pulled into a nearby store's parking lot. He pulled his collar up around his neck and started the hike toward the mall. It was worse than he expected. With a little more than a week before Christmas, kids and parents were lined up to sit on the infamous Santa Claus's lap. The pudgy baby on the red man's lap took one look at him, and wailed loudly. Erik winced, and pushed through the crowd.

Erik roamed the lower level of the mall in search of the 'perfect gift' for Chrisinte. Nothing he looked at would suit. Although, he did find a new collar for Lucy. He'd waited twenty minutes in line for that; he hadn't realized people actually bought pets Christmas presents.

Obviously people didn't realize they didn't have to just stand on the steps of the escalator because Erik was stuck behind a large family, their arms full of shopping bags. He tapped his fingers anxiously on the hand rail. Exiting the escalator proved to be quite a challenge. The small boy in front of him seemed to thing that the machine would eat his foot and proceeded to jump about. Despite himself, Erik felt a smile tugging at his lips.

He was quite sure he wouldn't be able to choose proper clothes for her. They had similar tastes in music, so anything he had was hers. Same goes for literature. There was even a store where one could make teddy bears. That too seemed to be the wrong direction. He stopped briefly in front of a bridal shop, gazing at the dummy bride and groom. After another moment, he moved on, slipping into a jewelry store. His idea pool had run dry.

After browsing for a moment, he saw it. He knew it was perfect. It was no bigger than the end of his pinky, but it was 'the gift'. At once he motioned for the sales person. The cheery woman blinked in surprise for a moment, then regained herself.

Erik tapped the glass gently. "May I see that?" The thin delicate chain was silver. Rubies and emeralds had been formed into the resemblance of a rose. It was exquisite. Erik shook his head. "Yes, I'll have it." The woman boxed and gift-wrapped the necklace. Once Erik had paid, he thanked the sales woman, even went as far as wishing her a nice holiday.


	25. With boughs of holly

A/N: I lied to you. It was 2 days. Sorry the chapter is short again, but it's like the second half of the first one. Thanks for reviews. Don't stop reviewing! Read on.

Christmas was wonderful. The holiday was spent with the Giry's again. The elder Giry made a feast. Erik mostly felt useless, but the Giry's made him feel at home. He hardly felt uncomfortable the whole of the day…for the most part. Even still he was thrilled to be heading home. He was excited about giving her gift.

Had they both not been so caught up in the spirit of Christmas, they may have noticed something was amiss.

The moment Erik entered his apartment he went to retrieve her gift. Christine's gift to him was a set of cufflinks and matching tiepin. All gold with an eighth note etched in them. They were quite beautiful. He pulled her close and kissed her soundly, and then presented his small gift-wrapped box to her.

When she removed the lid from the box, she bit down on her lip. Her fingers caressed the jewels. His roses were so very special to her. She thought back to all the roses he had actually given her. Whether they were for support or for love, it was still too much for her. She started blubbering.

Erik looked horrified. What had he done? He nearly groaned. Completely dumbfounded, he just stared at her, in awe.

"Oh Erik." She finally managed when he was about to find out just what was wrong. Adoring fingers caressed the jewels once more.

Erik took the piece from its box and she held her hair up. He clasped the chain around her neck, sending shivers down her spine when his fingers slid against her skin. The jewels twinkled against her pale skin.

"Gorgeous." He quickly kissed her fingers and then tugged her along. "Come, that's all you're allowed to wear." His beautiful turquoise eyes smiled at her. She gave him a laugh and bolted in front of him.

Hours later when their limbs were intertwined, and not long before dawn, the sound of breaking glass had Erik sitting upright. Christine stirred as he searched blindly for his mask. His pulse was racing.

"Stay here." He whispered in the dark while pulling a robe on.

"Erik…"

"I'll be right back…it's probably nothing." He wished he didn't sound so unconvincing. With nothing to protect him but his own two hands, Erik slid out of the bedroom, into the black of the hallway. He cocked his head, listening. Silence surrounded him, feeling him with unease.

Quietly he inched his way toward the extra bedroom. When he pushed the door open, nothing stirred in the darkness. He moved onward. The cold burst of air hit him when he reached the kitchen. He felt more than saw the broken window.

Flicking the switch on, his eyes scanned the floor. Shards of glass littered the area. A red brick lay on its side, in the middle of the floor. Erik blinked at it a few times, then moved to pick it up, careful of the glass. A sort of rope surrounded the brick; a note was glued to it.

Merry Christmas.

That's all that it said. Erik turned the brick over in his hand. A bit of silver flickered in the bright kitchen lights. Erik's thumb brushed over the metal half circle looped through the rope.

Not a rope. A collar. Not just any collar, but Lucy's collar. Erik shook his head at the brick.

"Lucy?" He called out softly. He gave a shrill whistle. Only silence followed. Dread filled him. Erik ran to search the room, bits of glass embedding themselves in his foot. An angry growl emitted from him. He limped throughout the apartment, leaving a bloody trail on the carpet.

"Erik, what's the matter?" Christine met him at the bedroom door in her own robe. She eyed the brick, noticing his odd gait. "What happened?"

"Lucy's gone missing. Someone broke the window." He offered the brick to her. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the glass from his foot.

"What! Why would someone do that?" Christine asked as he started to dress. She followed suit.

"I don't know, I really don't. I have to find her." Standing, he pulled a thick sweater over his head. "I have to." Despair filled his eyes when he glanced at her.

"I will help you." He hugged her briefly.

"Yes, you must stay with me." Once they had dressed, they started heading out.

Erik's search was short.

Outside his door lay Lucy. Not breathing and dry blood covering her chocolate coat.

A/N: Who figured out what was amiss?


	26. Fa la la la la la la la

A/N: It's short. I'm sorry. I will update more later or tomorrow. Also I let the reader decide what happened to the dog. E & C were gone all day, so... Anyways, I listened to some complaints, and things changed a bit. Thanks for reviews. Love you. Muah!

Erik's breath shot out as he fell to his knees. At first glance, she hadn't appeared to be breathing, but on closer inspection, her pulse was sluggish, but still there.

"Oh God." Christine knelt beside him. Gently, Erik pulled the big dog out of the cold hallway. He handed Christine the phone, and jotted down a number.

"The vet…don't take no for an answer." He pleaded. She nodded and he walked toward his bedroom. A moment later, she heard water running. When Erik came back in his arm was full of towels, and he was talking on his cell phone. He washed the blood away with the care that a mother would give her newborn.

"He'll be here as soon as possible." Christine knelt to help him. She retrieved a blanket when the dog began shivering. Fresh blood appeared on her leg. It was broken; he could see that.

Soon the veterinarian arrived, and took over. Moments later, the police arrived too. The two officers went through some questions with Erik, and took the brick in a plastic baggie. Erik made mention of the events of the previous months. The brake cutting, the fire, and now this; even that odd little note from so many months ago. Then Christine mentioned her little note. Erik stared at her in confusion.

"I didn't think it was important…well…until now." Christine half listened to the rest of the conversation, and watched the doctor splinting the dog's leg. He cleaned and treated a few other lacerations she had as well. Pulling the dog on to his makeshift stretcher, the doctor signaled her over.

"She's lost a lot of blood, and I'll need to check for internal injuries, so I'll have to take her to my office." Christine nodded and ran her fingers over the dog's head. Lucy's eye slid open for a second, but then shut again.

"Will she be okay?" The dog was cool to her touch.

"Assuming she has nothing internal, she'll be fine." Christine gave him a small smile and helped him pick Lucy up.

"I'll do that; you stay and talk with the officers." Erik pressed a kiss to her forehead and walked out the door. She told the policemen about her letter, and the brake incident. As she tried to recall the exact words used in the note, Erik walked back in.

The officers started questioning Erik about the events of that evening while she thought on it. Something clicked in her brain. The words she'd just recited for the cops sounded vaguely familiar. She furrowed her brow in thought.

Realization dawned on her. Ryan had said almost the same thing to her.

"Ryan. Ryan Changy." Christine whispered breathlessly.

Erik cocked an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"Ryan…that night," she slid her glance to the police, "that night, he said the same things that were in the note I got." She wouldn't have thought him capable, but…he seemed a bit unbalanced that night.

"Well Miss that's a bit of a stretch, but we'll look into it," said the taller of the two.

"See that you do." This from Erik.

"Yes sir. We will." By the time the officers left it was well into the morning. Lucy's vet called with good news. She'd be fine the doctor assured them. Still he was keeping her for observation for a few days. With that, Erik felt relief flood him. Aside from the fact that someone had tried to kill his dog.

Having not slept much the night before, he took Christine back to bed, making sure the door was lock of course. The duct tape over the hole in the window would have to suffice for now.


	27. No more notes!

A/N: Short again. But I just had to end it like this. Nothing else for it. Thanks for reviews! Don't stop. Read on.

Ryan had an alibi. Of course. For the holiday, he'd stayed with his parents, sister and brother. Naturally they would vouch for him. His father had designed the software that ran in nearly every business in the city, the whole country perhaps. Even if Ryan openly admitted to the crimes, which he didn't, the family could just throw their name around, and he'd have no charges against him. The police didn't spend too much time trying to break him. He was immovable. They didn't even search his home, or car. Erik was not pleased, and that was the understatement of the year.

After her few days' stay in the animal hospital, Lucy recovered fully; only a very slight limp reminded them of the incident. She was back to playing catch in no time. Erik took care to reinforce his locks and overall security of his apartment. Nothing of that sort would be happening to him again.

Rehearsal had begun for Erik's opera, which meant extra long days for both of them. They had a tough time adjusting to their new schedules, but they managed to find time for Christine's singing lesson every day still. Erik still kept on his toes. Christine had heard and seen nothing of Ryan since the whole police incident. And Erik was glad of it. Generally Erik tended to stick with her, even if it was to the crowded mall with Giry.

It was opening night for Don Juan Triumphant. They had had a month and a half of peace. No notes. No bricks. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. The theater was sold out. Erik couldn't help but be excited. He would at last get to see Christine as Aminta. His only regret was that he couldn't be her Don Juan. What he wouldn't give to be able to perform with her.

Unfortunately that could not happen. Even though his Don Juan was masked, the mask did eventually come off, and he knew he couldn't bear that. He could just be content to watch her as Aminta. Erik knew she was singing for him anyways.

Erik watched as the seats filled from his box. Unfortunately he wasn't watching closely enough. Ryan had purchased a ticket. He sat in the shadows on the lower level. His eyes never left the box where he knew the masked man sat. Reclining in his chair, he waited patiently for the show to start.

Erik smiled as the Giry's made their way to the front of the auditorium. The younger Giry spotted Erik, then jumped and waved at him. He nodded, smiled despite himself and waved back. Erik sat as the lights began to dim. The crowd hushed and the orchestra started playing his overture. Loud cacophonous sounds filled the place. Erik gulped as his work was put on display for hundreds of people. No one got up and left as far as he could tell. That was a good sign.

Soon Christine graced the stage, waiting for her cue. Her eyes flitted up toward Erik's box; he smiled and brought a fist to his heart. She smiled, her eyes sliding back toward her flower basket, which contained, of course, dark red roses.

During the intermission, Erik was pleasantly surprised to hear such praise for his opera. Christine was most definitely going to be a star. He spotted his managers and received a thumbs-up. Erik grinned as he made his way back to his box. He wasn't one to particularly care for other people's opinions, but his heart swelled with pride he hadn't felt in years. Proud of himself, and his Christine. Things couldn't be better.

The second act was just as well received as the first, if not better. There was a standing ovation, and the managers cornered him before he could run off to see Christine. About a half hour later, Erik finally escaped the conversation.

Cast members still covered in make-up and half in costume littered the backstage area, congratulating each other, giving each other praise. Erik stopped to talk to a few before making his way to the diva's dressing room. One last chorus member stopped to talk to him before he knocked.

And knocked.

And knocked again.

There was no answer. No sound from within.

Quickly he pushed the door open to find the costume there, but not the singer.

"Christine?" He called out, though there was little place for her to be. He rushed back out into the busy hallway. No one had seen her leave. Pulling his small cell phone out, he dialed hers. It rang from the small dressing table inside the room. Swearing, he ran out into the night.

In an instant he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, and then darkness.


	28. Either way you choose

A/N: I'll just get on with it.

When Erik regained consciousness, he was still surrounded by darkness. And coldness. And wetness.

His vision was blurred, and he could barely make objects out. The freezing, uneven pavement was under his bent knees. When he attempted to stand he found his hands bound to a tall fence behind him. Bound tightly.

He fought against the rope, rattling the fence. With his efforts, his body reminded him that he had a head injury. He gritted his teeth against the pain, and noticed that something was missing. His mask. It was gone. The fence rattled even louder as he started pulling hard, rubbing his wrists raw.

He let out a guttural growl.

Out of nowhere a fist landed on his marred cheek. His head snapped back from the force of it. A second landed on his nose, instantly breaking it. Blood oozed from his nose as his attacker revealed himself.

"Chagny." Erik spat out.

"Yes, freak, it's me. Were you expecting someone else?" Ryan dragged himself and a bound Christine into the bit of light that spilled into the dark alleyway. Erik went wild against his bonds when he saw Christine. Her eyes were wild with fear, tears spilling from the corners.

"Let her go."

Ryan merely gave an evil chuckle. "She's the only one who can save you, freak."

"Let. Her. Go." Ryan landed another fist in Erik's face, splitting his lip. Blood dribbled from Erik's wrists as he tested the rope.

"Shut up. We're going to find out whom she chooses, once and for all." Ryan turned toward Christine. "Christine, darling, either you come with me, or I'll kill your little friend here." Christine flinched from his touch, disgust showing plainly in her face.

"Run Christine. He's gone mad." Ryan rounded on him, producing a small gun from his jacket pocket.

"Be silent, or I'll silence you myself." Erik merely narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Go. He won't shoot. He hasn't got the guts." Erik egged him on.

"Erik! Stop!" She cried out.

"He probably doesn't even know how to use it. Run." Ryan aimed the gun at Erik.

"Don't test me freak. I assure you, I know how to shoot. Your life means nothing to me."

Erik shrugged. "Then shoot."

Ryan bared his teeth at Erik, his shooting arm shaking in anger. His forefinger slid over the metal of the trigger. His eye slid shut as he took better aim.

"Ryan! No!" Christine lifted her bound hands to push at his shoulder.

"See. I told you." Erik smirked at them.

Ryan's breathing became shallow as rounded on Erik, pushing Christine out of the way. He shot blindly.

Pain exploded in Erik's shoulder. Blood bloomed out from the wound. Christine crawled over to where Erik was.

"Erik." Ryan grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

Erik merely laughed, blood from his face injuries staining his teeth. "You missed." Ryan composed himself, and pressed the gun into Erik's temple.

"Think I'll miss from here?" Ryan sneered at him. Erik glared at him. "Go ahead Christine. Make your choice."

"If you leave with him Christine, it will kill me just the same. My life would be over anyway."

Christine knew she couldn't let Ryan kill Erik, but she didn't want to leave with Ryan.

"Why are you doing this Ryan?" She blubbered into her bound hands.

"Because I know you must love me. Who wouldn't? You just need to see the err in your way." Christine shook her head in disbelief.

"Christine…." Erik whispered to her. Her watery eyes met his. "I would rather die right now, than live an eternity without you. I _couldn't_ live without you." If possible even more tears spilled down her cheeks. She wouldn't watch him die. She shook her head at Erik, and mouthed 'I love you' to him.

"No." Erik growled.

"Okay, Ryan. You're right. I choose you." Ryan's grin was evil.

"No."

"I figured you would." The muzzle of the gun dropped from Erik's head.

"Once someone finds and releases me, Chagny, I'll find you. I'll kill you." Erik pulled with all of his might against the ropes, tearing his skin off. When Ryan turned to move Christine along, the fence gave.

Erik leapt to his feet, pushing his bound hands over his head, and pulled the rope tight against Ryan neck. Ryan swung around, knocking Erik back a few feet. Erik lunged for the gun. They wrestled over it for a moment, and then a shot sounded. Christine stared in horror.

After another moment, Ryan staggered backward, blood spreading out from the wound over his heart. Just as Ryan began falling to the ground, another shot came. Erik's face distorted in pain as he clutched his own chest, and kneeled on the pavement. Christine ran to him.

"My phone…in…my pocket." He rasped out. "Call the police." Then he blacked out again.


	29. Sleeping bud

A/N: I forgot to credit the stuff I stole in the last chapter. Obviously I sorta stole most of it from ALW. I did steal a bit from Pocahontas though. Anyways. Thanks for reviewing. Enjoy.

Once the police and ambulance were called, Christine sat on the wet ground next to Erik. She worked the rope off of her own wrists, and his, then she pulled her coat off, and pressed it tightly against the wound in Erik's chest. His hand was like ice when she took it, but he still had pulse. She pressed her lips to his forehead, tears spilling from her eyes.

Ryan was dead, that she was sure of. Not that she was likely to go and check.

Surprisingly, the ambulance arrived within the few minutes she was promised. The police weren't far behind. At once, they had Erik's shirt open, and went to work on stopping the blood flow. It turned out that the gunshot he'd received to the shoulder had only been a graze and had stopped bleeding on its own.

The police did their own thing with Ryan. They put the gun aside for evidence. Christine felt useless just standing there. She noticed one of the EMTs giving Erik an odd look. His mask. She'd seen it when she had been locked in Ryan's car. Erik was being lifted unto a stretcher by the time she had retrieved it.

A second ambulance had arrived, she assumed to take Ryan to the morgue. Christine walked next to Erik, and insisted on going to the hospital with him. Once inside the vehicle, she replaced his mask. He wouldn't want everyone staring at him. Then she smoothed his hair back. In the light of the ambulance she could see all the color was out of his face. His lips had a bluish tint to them. One of the police cruisers followed them to the hospital.

When Erik was being pushed into the ER, the police officer cornered Christine.

"Miss? Daae is it?" Christine merely nodded. "I've some questions to ask you, as you're the only witness. I could take you down to the station, but I'm sure you'd rather do it here." They took a couple of seats in the ER waiting room. Christine narrated the whole story, beginning with appearance of Ryan in her life. Once the cop had his statement, he left her, going to chat with another officer.

It did occur to her that Ryan was killed, and Erik had done it, self-defense, or not. Fresh tears sprouted in her eyes, and she curled up on the hospital chair. It was much later when Erik was moved to the ICU. Between the head injury, and the two gunshot wounds, Erik had lost too much blood. He was given a transfusion, and now he was receiving oxygen, and some other sort of IV was inserted in him. A bit of his color had returned, but he still wasn't conscious.

The hospital staff informed her that she wouldn't be able to see him until morning. Resigned, she slumped into a chair. All the tears had tired her, and she felt her eyes drooping. A sympathetic nurse came into the waiting room, and offered her a blanket and a small pillow. Christine gave her the most genuine smile she could muster, and took her offering. She asked the nurse to inform her of when she could see Erik. The nurse assured her that someone would let her know.

Christine hadn't realized she'd been shivering until she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. The plain white walls stared back at her, and the medicinal hospital scent filled her nostrils. She tried to will herself to sleep; the morning would come faster that way. Twisting in the chair she got as comfortable as she would get, and eventually sleep came.

Her rest was short and dreamless. The same nurse that had offered her the blanket gently tapped her shoulder. Christine came awake with a start.

"I'm sorry, but you wanted to be alerted when Mr. Grenier could receive visitors."

Christine smiled sleepily at her. "Yes, I did. Thanks so much, for everything." As she rose, she folded the blanket and set it on top of the pillow on the chair. "How is he doing?" Christine asked as she followed the nurse down the hallway. A uniformed officer sat dozing in a chair across from Erik's room.

"Better…still weak, but stable. He hasn't woken up yet." Christine nodded, and thanked the nurse again. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle on Erik's door. His breathing was deep and steady. His large form filled the bed. Tears welled in her eyes again as she looked over the machines he was hooked up to She eyed a chair in the corner, and dragged it next to the bed. Collapsing the bed rail, she took his hand, careful of his IV.

His hand was warm now, much to her relief. His color had returned, but his mask was missing. The back of his head had a bandage covering it. The thick bandages on his chest were visible through the hospital gown. His nose was bandaged as well. Under his eye was bruised, and his lip was still swollen.

With a great sigh she leaned over the bed and rested her head next to his shoulder. Later, when the nurse came to change his bandages, Christine used the pay phone to call the Giry's. Then bought breakfast out of a vending machine.

Erik's things, his mask, clothes, and shoes, were all in the closet. With his broken nose she didn't think it was wise to reapply the mask. It would probably be in the way. She kept it handy in case he woke, and wanted it. She retrieved the blanket and pillow, and curled up in the chair next to his bed.

For the next 48 hours she moved between the chair and pacing around the room. He still hadn't woken. The nurses were wonderful to her. They let her sleep in the room with Erik, and use the shower in the bathroom. She was so grateful to them.

Easing back into the chair, she scooted forward taking his hand in both of hers. Her head lay next to his, and she sang softly in his ear, willing him to wake. When she'd finished one of the songs he'd written and shared with her, his fingers tightened around hers. His eyes fluttered open, and his beautiful turquoise eyes stared back at her finally. He gave her a slight crooked grin.

"Christine." He rasped out.

A/N: Like I would kill Gerik. Yeah, right.


	30. Noodles

A/N: It's just a little something. I thought I needed some more E/C interaction. More to come soon.

With a grimace, Erik pushed the chicken broth back on the tray.

"I absolutely refuse to eat this again."

"Well, I thought you preferred the chicken to the beef, or I would have ordered you that."

"That's not what I mean. Can't they even add noodles or something? I'm starving to death here."

"Don't be silly Erik. They give you plenty of food." He eyed the lime Jell-o cubes stacked in the small saucer. Jiggily food didn't appeal to him.

"You know, I could really go for a cheeseburger." He gave Christine a hopeful smile. "Fully loaded. Fries. That'd be great." Hopeful smile quickly turned into a grin.

Christine looked up from the book she was reading, fighting an amused smile.

"Once you get the okay from your doctor, I'll be more than happy to get you whatever you like to eat, until then, enjoy your broth." Once again she concentrated on her book.

Erik gave a disgusted sigh. "Fine." He sulked for a moment, and then pried the lid back off of the plastic bowl. "All I'm asking for is noodles. I'm paying twenty dollars for a friggin' aspirin and they can't put noodles in the soup?" Christine merely rolled her eyes up at him. Resigned, he scooted back so he could eat. Wincing slightly from the pain in his chest, he sat up, spooning the noodle-less soup into his mouth.

Erik pushed the dining tray toward the middle of the room, and turned onto his good side, facing Christine. She hadn't left his side since he arrived for more than a half an hour. He had no idea how he could ever repay her for not leaving him alone. When her eyes met his, he patted the empty part of the bed next to him. She climbed into the bed as his good arm went around her waist. He kissed her temple, and settled down for a nap, as he had nothing else to do but sleep.


	31. Hunt down this murderer

A/N: Forgive me, please forgive me. I know its been a while since I gave you a real chapter. Unfortunetely this is the last one. I may do a sequel, I haven't decided. Thank you all for reviewing. There is still an epiloge to come. I will have that up hopefully tomorrow. Here it is.

Little more than a week later, Erik's doctor deemed him well enough to go home, with instructions of a follow-up in 2 weeks. The police were waiting outside Erik's room.

"Mr. Grenier? We need you to come with us." With a sigh, Erik bent to kiss Christine's cheek.

"Go on home. I should be there soon." He told her.

"Actually, Ms. Daae, we'll need to talk to you again as well." The police escorted Erik out to their cruiser. Christine followed right behind. Once inside the station, Christine sought out the officer who had taken Erik in. As she made her way back to the cop who was sitting behind a desk, she practically ran into a tall man, in a fine suit. For a brief moment, he stared at her, narrowing his eyes, but then moved on.

"Excuse me." Christine murmured. The man said nothing and walked away. The man had dark hair, but the same bright blue eyes. Christine would recognize Phillip Chagny anywhere. He didn't look a bit different. He had been 15 years Ryan's senior, but the two brothers were close. Or they had been.

Christine watched as he approached the officer she'd been heading to and spoke to him. The officer nodded a few times then pointed down a hallway. Christine was just near enough to hear.

"Fourth room on the right, sir." Phillip nodded, walking briskly down the hall. Christine walked to the desk once Phillip had fled.

"Miss?" The burly man behind the desk looked up at her.

"Erik Grenier? Where is he?"

"Well he's certainly a popular man today; he's in an interrogation room."

"I'm Christine Daae. One of the officers said I should come down here."

"Right. Daae you say? Weren't you in that play? The one about the man in the mask?" At her nod, he went on. "That was some show." She gave him a slight smile. The man unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt and told someone named Joe that she was there. "Have a seat, miss." He pointed toward a row of plastic chairs. "Someone will be with you soon."

Christine sat, and wrapped her arms around her middle. The dark, dank room gave her chills. It was twenty minutes later when she was led back to a small room. Joe, she assumed, was short, stick thin, Italian and had a thin mustache hovering over his lip. He offered he coffee that looked about 12 hours old. She politely declined.

"I know you've already been through this, but I'll need you recall that night again. The night when your fiancé killed Ryan Chagny." Her eyes narrowed, but she started at the beginning, from the moment Ryan became the new patron, until the moment the last shot was fired. Then Joe started grilling her with questions, she supposed to find a glitch in her story. She could remember everything; it was burned into her mind. Without a doubt, she would_ never_ forget that night.

Another officer came in after Joe left, holding a manila envelope. She went through the same ordeal with him.

Meanwhile, Erik was being watched. Phillip Chagny sat next to an officer behind the two-way glass. He refused to believe that his baby brother could have done such a thing. The man, this masked man, must be lying.

The cop, Joe, was now questioning Erik.

"Tied you, you say?" Joe glanced over the hospital records. Grenier had, in fact, had severe rope-burn; the top layers of his skin had been scraped off. The thick rope that had been found at the crime scene had blood that matched Grenier's. All things were leading to self-defense. Grenier must have pulled the trigger of the gun over Chagny's finger, because there wasn't a single fingerprint of his on the gun. The wound over Chagny's heart looked to have been shot at an odd angle.

Quite possibly the angle that Grenier had attempted to wrestle the gun from Chagny at. The fact that they had to pull the gun from Chagny worked in Grenier's favor. After a few more questions, Joe was satisfied.

"Well, from your statement, and that of Ms. Daae's, I find it hard to believe that this case wasn't that of self-defense. You're free to go. Do not leave the state or the country; we may need to see you again." Erik nodded and shook Joe's hand. Joe knocked on the door, and it was pushed open. When Erik stepped out, he met an icy blue stare. The owner of the blue stare glared at Erik, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Erik raised his visible eyebrow and pushed past the man.

When Christine saw Erik, she ran to him, hugging him tightly. Wincing slightly, he kissed her forehead.

"Ready to leave?" Erik slid his arm around her shoulders.

"Can we?" She stared up at him. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, let's go, then."

Erik pulled the door open, letting a rush of the cold March air in. As he held it for Christine, he glanced over his shoulder. The elder Chagny stood a few yards behind them, his glare was still of icy hatred. Revenge would be his.

The End


	32. Epilogue

Epilogue

5 months later…

A sweaty, sated Erik rolled to her side. The bed sheet on the mattress they had set on the floor was tangled in their limbs. Hot, humid air blew in through the open window, flickering the candles that were slowly burning out. The house wasn't nearly finished yet, but Erik suggested they spend their wedding night in the house they would share.

Their ceremony had been small, only the Giry's as witnesses. Christine had worn white, simple and elegant. As an after thought, she tucked a blood red rose behind her ear. Her long curls had been left free for the day, as Erik preferred them. Erik had worn a similar rose pinned to his charcoal suit jacket. Both had tears clinging to their lashes as they read their vows. Erik's voice had been thick with emotion; his hands trembled as his slipped her band on, platinum to match the other. They shook even worse when she slid his band on. Christine felt the tear threatening to fall from his eye mingle with hers when they shared their 'first' kiss.

Afterward, they had a celebratory supper at the restaurant Erik had taken Christine to on their first 'date'. The elder Giry presented the happy couple with a gift of a honeymoon in Paris. Erik was overwhelmed. Speechless.

Once they arrived at his, no, their half-built house, he carried her over the threshold, and into their new life. He'd planted candles and champagne in what would one day be a living room, around the makeshift bed of the mattress. Rose petals were strewn about, on the floor, and over the 'bed'. Her eyes welled up again at his thoughtfulness as he struck a match to light the candles. A single rose lay between the two pillows on the bed. The rose was trailed over every curve and line of her body once her clothes were gone. She had a whole new appreciation for them. By the time he'd loved, honored and cherished every inch of her, they'd already been married half the day.

Now she lay next to him, truly his. She kissed the corner of his mouth, and then intertwined the fingers of her right hand with his left. The metal of the ring that now encased his ring finger was cool and smooth to her touch. The distinct scar on his chest, and the less visible one on his shoulder reminded her every day how lucky she was to have him. His nose now had the slightest bump on it, marring what once had been a perfect nose. After it was over, they never spoke of it. Ryan Chagny was put to rest. (No pun intended)

They'd moved on. Christine was able to perform as Aminta a few more times before the season ended, and Erik was frantically working on another opera. The theater managers decided they liked Christine Daae, and kept her on as the star at their theater. The school year had ended as well, so they both had a bit more free time. Erik oversaw the reconstruction of his home, and Christine usually tagged along, offering her services. Her services usually consisted of keeping the dog company, but she didn't imagine she could swing a hammer as well as the guys Erik had already hired. She was content to throw a tennis ball and watch Erik pound away. Once the house was built she'd be much more help.

Erik grinned as he looked down at their joined hands. Never had he imagined that he'd marry, especially not this exquisite, amazing woman. Never. A dull ache always came upon him when he thought of the night Chagny had tried to take her. He thought of it often; many times a day. No doubt he'd be the poor bastard that was 6 feet under now if the madman had actually achieved it. He would cease to function were she not by his side.

"Goodnight Erik." Christine murmured into his ear.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Grenier." He smiled at her.

A smile touched her lips as her eyes fluttered shut. He tugged her closer, and pulled the sheet free from their legs, then over them. A contented sigh escaped his lips as he rested his head atop hers.

Only she could love him like this, only she. No one but her.

A/N: I am really sad to see this story come to an end. I really enjoyed writing it. Of course it totally wouldn't be worth it if you all hadn't reviewed. A special thank you to each and every one of you, reviewers and lurkers, for reading. An extra-special thank you for everyone that reviewed. I'm fairly certain I'll sequel it, but I've been thinking of another storyline, and that one's bugging me more. So look out for me and my future stories. And for the last time, please review! Thank you all.


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